#and then it turned out to be The Reason they hired him

[vandme12]

This has been rotting in my head for so long, how would the KC cast react to a powerful figure Mc? Ronin added mc because he just thought they were a writer needing inspiration, but what if they were actually a big influential figure in politics, media etc? Maybe they’ve hired Misaki before to get rid of someone? Maybe V knows them from charity meetings? How would it all unfold?

I really loved writing this! Whoever asked, Please ask me more head canons! The concept, would be they're a powerful "person" who usually gets people to kill off "bad" people! This is my longest head canon!

Ronin Beaufort!

At first, you were just a fun little distraction. Some writer looking for inspiration in the darkest parts of the world? Yeah, yeah, he’s heard that one before. But you were flirty, sharp, and a little too comfortable around him, which made you interesting.

So, he let you stick around. Took you to some bloody, brutal places, spun his words like knives, toyed with you just to see if you’d flinch.

But you didn’t.

You kept up. You even pushed back.

And damn it, he loved that.

You made things fun.

So fun, in fact, that he didn’t question it. Didn’t stop to wonder how you were able to navigate his world so easily, how you had this natural charisma that could turn heads, how your words carried weight in a way that felt… important.

He didn’t put the pieces together—until he saw your face on the news.

He’s at some dive bar, half-watching the TV, when he sees it. Some big political scandal. Some business shake-up. And right there, center screen, is you.

Your name. Your title. Your power.

His brain short-circuits.

He just stares for a good five seconds, drink frozen halfway to his lips.

“What.”

Immediate, sharp, loud laughter.

“Oh, what the FUCK?! You gotta be kiddin’ me.”

He’s laughing so hard he slaps the bar. The bartender jumps. Other people in the bar look at him like he’s crazy.

Because of course. Of course, the one person he’s been dragging into the worst places, letting into his world, kissing, touching, —

Is actually one of the most powerful people in the world.

The moment he gets his laughter under control, he’s grinning. Big. Sharp. Wild.

“Well, well, well. Ain’t this a fuckin’ surprise.”

The next time he sees you? Oh, he is not letting you live this down.

He’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, smirking like the devil himself.

“Sooo, babe. Anythin’ you wanna tell me? Y’know, like—what the fuck?”

If you try to act casual about it? He grabs your chin, tilts your head up, and just grins.

“Nah, nah, don’t gimme that. You mean to tell me I’ve been callin’ you ‘sweetheart’ and sneakin’ you into crime scenes, when I should’ve been callin’ you Boss?”

If you flirt back? Oh, he eats that shit up.

“Ohoho, you’re playin’ dangerous now, darlin’. You know what happens to people who turn me on and surprise me? Bad, bad things.”

He’s so into this.

Like, obnoxiously into it.

He starts calling you titles sarcastically.

“Ahh, my beloved CEO, let me open the door for ya.”

“Oh no, did my precious politician have a rough day? C’mere, lemme make it all better.”

“D’you think world leaders would shit themselves if they knew you were makin’ out with a serial killer? ‘Cause that’s funny as hell.”

But beneath the teasing? Oh, he’s obsessed.

He already thought you were a perfect match for him, but now?

Now, you’re not just smart. Not just dangerous in your own way.

You’re untouchable.

Bottom line? He is so in love with you it’s disgusting.

You’re powerful, you’re dangerous, and you’re his.

And that? That’s all he ever needed to know..

“So, what’s the play here, sweetheart? You gonna bring me down? Put me in the headlines? C’mon, gimme a scandal—make it a good one.”

If you tell him you have no intention of exposing him, that you’re here for your own reasons, he’s intrigued.

“Ahhh, so you’re just a little freak, huh? Love that for you.”

“So, tell me, baby—how’s it feel, bein’ the most dangerous person in the room for once?”

And when you smirk and say, “I’m always the most dangerous person in the room,”—Oh.

Oh, he loves you. Because it’s true, isn’t it? Ronin might be a killer, but you—you have real power. The kind of power that doesn’t need a knife to cut people down. AND that? That’s hot as hell.

Misaki

At first, Misaki thought you were just some random writer that Ronin picked up for fun. Maybe you were looking for inspiration in the darkest corners of the world, and hey, Misaki could respect that.

Until, one day, they’re watching TV in their bunker, shoveling cup noodles into their mouth, and—

Your face is on the news.

Immediate choking.

They nearly drop the noodles.

They stare.

Blink once. Twice.

Wait. What the fuck.

They scramble for the remote, turn the volume up, and suddenly, their world is spinning.

"HOLD ON—"

Because there you are, center screen, name plastered in bold letters. Some scandal, some massive political shift, some media shake-up—and at the heart of it all? You.

The person they’ve been flirting with. The person they’ve been spending nights with in calls.

"WAIT, WAIT, WAIT, BACK THE HELL UP—!"

They’re gripping their head, pacing their bunker, absolutely spiraling.

“You mean—you mean to tell me I’ve been flirting with someone who can LITERALLY change the world?! Oh my god—oh my god, I’m so broke, I can’t handle this—"

The next time they see you? They’re standing there, arms crossed, clearly trying to look intimidating but failing miserably because their face is still stuck in pure existential crisis mode.

“Sooo. You got anythin’ you wanna tell me, boss?”

If you just smirk and go, “Oh? You didn’t know?”

They groan loudly.

"OF COURSE I DIDN’T KNOW, YOU JERK! Oh my god, I was out here thinking you were some struggling writer, and now you’re telling me you could probably buy my entire life with a single check?!"

Cue another breakdown.

And if you’ve hired them before? Oh. Oh, that’s interesting.

“Hold on—wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me I’ve been talking to one of my clients this whole time?!”

They go through a full existential crisis.

But once the initial shock wears off? They’re intrigued.

“Okay, okay, but real talk—why the hell are you hanging out with us? You could be anywhere, doing anything, running the world, and yet, you’re here. Why?”

If you flirt with them? They malfunction.

“H-Hey, don’t distract me! This is serious! You—wait, what do you mean I look cute when I’m panicking?! That’s—STOP.”

But deep down? They FEEL KYAH!

If you say something like “Because I like you”

—They malfunction.“LIES. YOU’RE A LIAR. DON’T SAY THINGS LIKE THAT—”

But deep down? They’re kicking their feet.Because holy shit.

Someone that important thinks they’re important.

It’s the worst and best thing to ever happen to them.

Angel

At first, Angel just thought you were another charismatic, ambitious person—someone drawn into her orbit the way most people were. She didn’t question it too much. You were charming, clever, and played along with her public persona so well it was almost addictive.

Then, one day, she sees you on the news. Not in the background. Not as a guest. You are the news.

Maybe you’re a political powerhouse, a media mogul, an elite CEO—whatever it is, you’re big.

Cue an instant mental shutdown. She’s staring at the screen, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, and for once in her life, completely speechless.

“… Wait, wait, wait. What?!”

First, she replays every conversation the two of you have ever had, wondering how she missed the signs.

Second, she assumes you just didn’t tell her because… well, why would you? She wouldn’t have believed it anyway.

Third? Immediate concern.

Because she knows powerful people. She’s been around them.

And most of them are monsters.

But you? You’ve always been kind to her. Sweet. Playful. The same way she is with you.

…So why does this still feel like a dream?

When you finally come home, Angel is sitting on the couch, arms crossed, a frown on her lips—but her eyes are soft.

"Sooo…" she tilts her head. "Is this the part where you tell me I’ve been secretly dating royalty, or—?"

You try to explain, but she just leans closer.

"And when, exactly, were you gonna tell me that you're kind of a big deal?"

Pout. Full pout.

But she’s not actually mad. Just incredibly intrigued.

The more she learns about your influence, the more protective she gets.

She knows the price of power. She knows the pressure. The weight. The expectations.

And she knows what it’s like to need approval.

She’s quiet for a moment before reaching for your hand.

“Are you happy?” Her voice is gentle.

You nod, but she studies your face carefully, trying to find the cracks.

“You promise?”

If you squeeze her hand, reassure her? She melts.

She wants to believe you. So badly.

Angel is soft with you in ways she isn’t with the world.

She may be a perfectionist. She may be needy for attention. But with you?

She doesn’t have to perform.

She can just… be.

And that’s a rare, precious thing.

And she will make fun of you for the way you talk in "serious mode."

"Ooooh, look at you~ all professional and intimidating~"

But deep down? She’s proud.

She just expresses it through teasing.

She knows power changes people.

And she worries about that. About what it might do to you.

But she also loves you too much to let it push her away.

“No matter how big or important you are…” she murmurs, curling up against you. “You’re still mine.”

And honestly? There’s no one else in the world she’d rather love.

V

The moment, you open your video feed to see him for the first time he knows who you are.

V already knows who you are.

He’s rich. Powerful. Connected. No one reaches his radar without him knowing everything about them.

So when your face appears on his screen, he isn’t surprised.

What surprises him is the fact that you recognize him, too.

You tilt your head, lips curling into an amused smirk.

“Mr Valentin Viljoen, right? We’ve met before.”

His eyes narrow slightly. “Yes. And you are—”

“I'm your kind!” you interrupt smoothly, leaning back in your chair. “Without ever spilling a drop of blood.”

That makes him pause.

His posture tenses. Just for a second.

Because… that’s not wrong.

He’s seen your name in places that matter—a ghost behind the curtains of power.

You don’t get blood on your hands.

You hire people to do it for you.

At first, he’s wary.

You are the kind of person he hunts. The kind who orchestrates death while keeping their hands clean.

The kind that believes their cause justifies the means.

And yet…

You don’t silence everyone. You don’t kill for profit or ego.

You kill corrupt politician. The ones who slip through the cracks of the system. Like him.

He watches you closely after that.

“You play God,” he says one night, his voice measured. “Deciding who lives and who dies.”

You meet his gaze, unshaken.

“So do you.”

The two of you challenge each other constantly.

You push him to see the necessity of what you do.

He pushes you to consider the weight of it.

“Your assassins are no different than the people I kill,” he says coldly. “They’re just a tool you use to maintain control.”

You hum thoughtfully. “And you’re just a weapon that wields itself.”

Silence.

A game of chess with no clear winner.

But there’s one thing he can’t ignore.

You don’t kill the innocent.

Your network, your power—it’s built on a foundation of purpose.

And whether he likes it or not…

You’re not the villain he expected.

He watches you more than he should.

He listens to how smoothly you speak, how effortlessly you manipulate a conversation without a single lie.

He hates how drawn he is to it.

“You play dangerous games,” he mutters one night.

You smirk. “So do you.”

And he hates that you’re right.

He’s used to keeping his distance.

But you make that impossible.

The sharp way you tease him, the way you dance on the edge of his moral code.

It gets under his skin.

“What the hell are you?” you ask one night, head tilted. “A hero? A killer?”

His lips press into a thin line.

“What are you?” he counters.

It happens slowly.

At first, he tells himself he’s just keeping an eye on you.

But then it becomes habit.

Seeking your voice, waiting for your messages, analyzing your movements.

He finds himself protecting you before he even realizes why.

Because the moment someone tries to take you down?

He’s already one step ahead.

“You should leave,” he mutters after taking care of a hitman sent after you. “Disappear.”

You laugh softly. “And let them win?”

His jaw clenches.

He should walk away from you.

But he won’t.

Because for all his righteousness…

He can’t let you go.

[popcornforone]

The Lore

A Max Phillips Valentines Fan Fic

Bitey Maxie… for valentines… now we’re talking!

@happypedrohours are doing a valentines challenge this weekend & I took up the challenge, my Prompt of Max with heart shaped candies/chocolates. There was only one way to go with this so yes I went there.

Synopsis:- You are not bothered by Valentine’s Day to show your love, but Max has other ideas.

Word Count:- 4100

Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18!There is a lack of consent in this for lots of reasons, please in real life always give or receive consent before doing anything. PIV sex, drinking blood, alcohol, swearing, vampire lore & powers, drugging, stalking, controlling, boss & staff relationship, age gap (max is a vampire he’s like 200 years older than you in this story) manipulation.

Thanks for the read peoples. I hope you enjoy this.

Oooh as my poem got a lot of love last time, if you click here later this weekend you will get the poem version of this story.

���Ooooh isn’t it going to be romantic”

“I love this holiday”

“Wonder how many roses I will get”

You groan at the constant comments around the office in the lead up to Valentine’s Day. You have never been the kind of person,be it single or in a relationship, to enjoy Valentine’s Day. Yes it’s nice to get gifts & be doted on but you believe you don’t need a day to tell the person you love that you love them, you love them every day. Also there is currently the added bonus that no one in your office knows your in a new relationship. For lots of reasons you’ve had to keep it quiet. It’s been 6 months now, there’s been a few difficult conversations along the way so far but you know what to expect of each other.

As you sit there hearing Darcey talk for the 8th time that on Friday she has the day off & she’s sure her boyfriend will finally propose to her, you get a pop up on your screen.

My office with the reports in 10 mins.

“Always to the point” you mutter & start downloading last months sales reports to the usb drive. He is the only person in the world who hates using the cloud so this has to be done. You don’t mind it though. Means you know he’s not just skimming through the reports.

9mins later you knock on his office door & walk in closing it behind you.

“A minute early,” he says his back to you as he looks out the window at the grey busy city below. His Gucci suit being sleek & making his peachy arse, tiny waist & broad shoulders look emaculate. “Either that’s not good for sales, or you are getting too good at your job, guessing when I’m gonna ask for stuff.” He shifts back on his left foot before turning. There he is. Not a hair out of place. Looking as handsome as ever.

Your boss.

Your Boyfriend.

Max Phillips.

You always gulp upon seeing those eyes. Eyes so smouldering they could set a forest a blaze with one look. His hand smoothed out his blue tie. That large hand that makes you think bad things. & those lips, thin for now but blushing with life, the perfect way to end any day is to have those lips make contact, in lots of ways.

“Well that is why you hired me” you reply & wait for him to beckon you over. He might be your boyfriend & boss, but you are also his sub, & part of his supply of food. Max is a Vampire. Your obedience is rewarded with all sorts of things, but mainly mind blowing sex every other night. You’ve had so many orgasms in the last 6 months your world has truly been rocked. The two fingers extend & he does a come hither. You nod & walk across to him & hand him his usb. He grabs your hand, tightly & you gasp.

“Thank you darling” he then kisses your neck. You flinch a little. It’s the sore patch. It’s where he drinks from. You won’t let him drink while you have sex, one of the disagreements you’ve had, but on a Friday after you’ve dined & wined with whoever you have been out with, he will come over, drink from your neck so he can feel a little intoxicated too & then as you lie exhausted from being consumed yourself, he will devour your pussy until you can’t cum anymore.

“My pleasure sir” you say. He giggles a little, the glint in his eye even more shiney today.

He sits behind his desk & the two of you go through the sales reports. Despite you being his in almost every sense (he’s not agreed to turn you yet) he’s still very impressed with you, your work ethic, your charisma, your professionalism & the fact, that even though he is your master in lots of ways, that you will challenge him. No one has done that for over 200 years. He likes you feisty , because then he knows you’re being real & true. You wear your heart on your sleeve & that’s one of the reasons he adores you.

“That is actually all good” he says at the end of the review & chat”up 15% on last month that’s very reassuring, shows growth is continuing to get stronger”

“As I said Sir” you interject “we don’t need to grow at rapid speed just 12% each month for this year & then they will keep coming back & then recommend us”

“You’re so business savvy” he takes his large hand off the keyboard & strokes your chin. You try to not blush. “Your my little Angel”

“Max” you giggle unable to keep calm you know what thumb stroking usually means “we’re at work”

“&…”

“What if…”

“I’m in charge remember darling” the grip on your chin gets firmer. “If I wanted you under my desk every morning for a blow job, all

I’d have to do is snap my fingers & you’d be on your knees” your bright red, because you know it’s true. Power attracts you. His lore radiates. He pulls your face down, the eye contact intense, the sexual tension could cut through a coconut. Your kiss never materialises, as his phone rings. He answers it angrily.

“Fine fine fine” he says sternly before hanging up. “Sorry darling, rain check, new interns from the college, here to see if they want to work here”you are both disappointed but know you will get to continue later.

“Actual interns or a snack?” You ask he pulls a face of shock. Almost disappointed in your remarks, but you see the glint in his eye.

“Actual interns…” he then pauses & raises an eyebrow. “But the most Karen amongst them might be a nice little nibble” you giggle at him & take the usb back. “Hang on” you pause just before the door. “Remember I’m at a conference next week”

“Of course sir”

“Means a couple of nights away” he then pauses his face worried “including late home on Friday”

“&…” you reply.

“But it’s Valentine’s Day” he says. He’s shocked you don’t look sad.

“It’s just a day Max” you say softly. “I don’t need a certain day to be doted on” he then looks really shocked by this. In the 284 years he’s been alive he’s always spoilt the woman in his life on this day.

“You sure”

“Yes Max” you smile at him softly “my feelings won’t change for you they will be the same on Saturday as they will be on Friday” you nod & then leave his office.

Max sits back in his chair contemplating what you just said to him. Amazed you don’t want a fuss. He can read your mind, 9 times out of 10 he decides not to, but he had a quick feel around during that conversation & realised you weren’t lying. You really aren’t bothered. But that is going to make what Max has planned so much better. His mind planning only interrupted when the intercom goes to say the interns are in the lift to see him.

Valentine’s Day arrives.

After hitting your alarm on snooze, you see the message from Max on your phone.

I know i love you every day but today I felt like saying it, love you darling 💕

You reply saying the same back before getting in the shower. The hot steam making you wish Max was here, to touch you in lots of ways. Once dressed & in the kitchen making your coffee the door goes. You moan a little & hit the buzzer for whatever delivery this is to come up to your apartment, but your eyes are a delight when you open your eyes. A heart shaped cookie, with some small heart shaped chocolates on it & two roses with thorns still attached. The note that with it says “I bet this made you at least smile MPx” it had. Your dark heart which usually hates Valentine’s Day & the commercialism of it, starting to defrost a little. You decide to eat a chocolate as you head out to get the subway to work. As the last bit of chocolate melts on your tongue you feel wave of euphoria. Maybe it’s having something so sweet this early in the morning that’s woken up your senses, you’re not sure. But it’s making you bounce into the office this Friday morning. People notice how happy you are & are wondering what’s up.

When you get to your desk on your floor there is a pink heart shaped box, with a gold bow & a note. “Thought this morning was all you were gonna get? MPx” you untie the bow as some of your colleagues watch you. Those who aren’t then hear your squeal of excitement once it’s opened. A lavish selection of heart shaped chocolates & sweets sit inside & they smell amazing, making you lick your lips.

“Thought you didn’t do Valentine’s Day?” Danny asked.

“I don’t”

“& aren’t you single?” You blush at that.

“It’s complicated” you say. You’d love to shout out that you are getting railed by Max, but that would make things awkward. “But I have someone” you finish & you take a white chocolate heart & plop it in your mouth. “Oooh raspberry” you then offer the box to Danny “take one”

“But they are yours”

“I’m not gonna be able to eat them all Danny you take one for now & one for the journey” you offer innocently.

2hours later you suddenly realise the office is all around a much happier & nicer place. The usual mid morning slump never arrives. In fact, the entire office feels like it’s running on a different frequency, lighter, faster, buzzing with an energy that’s almost contagious. People are smiling, laughing, moving with an unusual ease. Even the usual grumblers seem… pleasant.

You lean back in your chair, watching as Danny animatedly chats with Sarah from accounts, his usual nervousness nowhere to be seen, he’s always had a crush on her. Across the room, even your perpetually stressed admin clark is grinning as she types away at her keyboard. It’s like someone has turned the volume up on life. It’s only when you realise that you’re tapping your foot at a ridiculous speed & that your fingers have been flying over your keyboard without you even noticing, that a thought creeps in.You glance at the open chocolate box on your desk.

Surely not?

Another bite of a heart chocolate sends a fresh wave of warmth through you, like you could take on the world. Your body feels incredible, light, sharp, almost euphoric. Your brain is firing on all cylinders.

Your phone vibrates. A message from Max.

“Feeling good, sweetheart?”

Your stomach flips. That bastard.

“What did you do?” You reply.The three dots appear.

“Hopefully get you loose”

You look up. Across the room, Danny meets your eye & grins, cheeks flushed. He winks.

“Oh fuck” you whisper & grab the box & run into Max’ office & lock the door behind you before calling him. He answers straight away.

“Darling”

“What’s in the chocolates Max?”

“Happy Val…” you interrupt him.

“I’m serious Max” you say sternly. “I passed them around the office”

“WHAT!” He screeches”why did you do that”

“Cos I’m not gonna eat 30 chocolates it would take me months”

“Fuck” he says “so how is erm… the rest of the office”

“Euphoric, In the most chilled Friday mood ever” you hear him tut.

“Well they have a mild aphrodisiac in them, just to let you inhibitions go” he chuckles. He’s drugged you & no also due to your generosity most of his staff.

“You think this is funny?” You state.

“I do, sorry daring. I didn’t want you stressing & I wanted you to have a nice calm day without me” he then pauses”wait where are you calling me from im guessing not the office floor”

“I ain’t that stupid Max” you scoff “I’m in your office, panicking”

“Bottom left draw of my desk” he says. His tone demanding even down the phone & you obey. You open the drawer & there is a bottle of champagne.

“Max”

“Take it home when you leave, enjoy it tonight, you deserve it baby” & then the phone clicks off, he’s hung up. Your stood there speechless & also very concerned you’ve just drugged the office with heart shaped chocolates. Well technically your boss has, your boyfriend has.

After the most relaxed Friday anyone has ever imagined, you go back to your apartment. Another bunch of red roses are waiting for you with a smaller box of chocolate & the note on the card says, “order a take away on me beautiful MPx” you blush & take them inside. After setting the roses in a vase & placing the smaller chocolate box on your kitchen counter, you flop onto the couch, phone in hand. Ready to let Max know what he might be coming back to at work next week.

“You do realise I am never trusting any food from you again, right?” His reply is instant.

“Oh, come on, darling. Didn’t you have the best Friday of your life?”

“You drugged an entire office.”

“Lightly. They’ll be fine. No complaints, right”You pause. He’s right. No one seemed upset. In fact, people left work happier than they ever have on a Friday. It was as if all the tension that usually hung in the air had dissolved. Still, you weren’t about to let him get off that easy.

“You’re a menace.”

“& yet, I’m your menace & you love me.”

You groan, tossing your phone onto the coffee table at his reply. He’s insufferable, smug & unfortunately, he’s right.

Your stomach rumbles, bringing your attention to the takeout menu you’ve grabbed, you know it doesn’t go well but a burger & champagne sounds good. As you place your order, your thoughts drift back to Max’s little surprise. The chocolates. The way they made you feel. That warm, floaty sensation still lingers in your veins, but now it’s mixed with anticipation. Because you know exactly what���s coming next. After all, he’s not the type to leave things at just chocolates & flowers.

As if on cue, your phone vibrates again.

“Enjoy your dinner, sweetheart. I’ll be seeing you soon”

Your breath catches. Max isn’t meant to get back until really late tonight. Is this all just a game to him? Playing with your emotions or is it just the heart shaped chocolates playing with your mind.

What you have no idea is that Max was never working away today, he’s been following you. He had been away for the rest of the week but he got back to his place last night. He watched you get the gifts on each occasion including putting a couple of mind control tricks on you, a little one every now & then doesn’t effect you, he even snuck into work to see how the chocolates were going down. He’s been watching you from outside your apartment feeling your aura, ready to strike at the moment you are most care free & relaxed. He wants a special Valentine’s Day himself. He wants you, & he knows by making you so calm & relaxed there is a huge chance you will let him drink from you when you have sex. He will need no mind controls tonight.

When you’ve finished eating & you pour another large glass of fizz, you hear a soft knock at your actual apartment door. Not the buzzer or the intercom. It’s deliberate & sends a shiver of both nervousness & delight down your spine. It has to be him. You slowly make your way to the door, is it nerves, fear, anticipation, lust, desire or all of the above that’s making your heart pound inside you? You can feel the tension as you unlock the door.

Max always has the devil in his eyes being a vampire but tonight it’s glowing. There’s an extra glint shining bright in those eyes. He knows he’s been naughty but he can’t contain his enjoyment of his teases through the day. He’s dressed to the nines as always spotless, the tie in his sleek jacket pocket, you can see the red poking out. Trousers that if he thrust, would show you which side he was dressing today. He’s smirking the only way he can.

“Surprise” he says cockily. You roll your eyes & tut in a sarcastic way. You step aside & he bows before entering. It’s a vampire thing.

“How was the late stay for the work thing?” You ask but you already deep down know he’s been spying on you. Something in your mind is telling you this.

“Erm about that” you sigh”oooh come on I wanted to have fun & you clearly have had enough of it, & I had to know if you really were enjoying yourself.”

“How often do you watch me max” not just a question for today but just in general.

“Not nearly as much as I’d like to, I’ve set my own boundaries. Trust me I could stand at the end of your bed all night watching you sleep & you’d have no idea”

“What” you say shocked.

“Joking” he says putting his hands up apologetically, but there’s something about he smirk that makes you think maybe he sometimes does. He then takes your left hand & kisses it. You blush crimson.”you know your better than any drug or blood to me”

Just being with each other intoxicates you both. No more mind games are needed tonight, no more alcohol or chocolates to let yourself go. Your combined auras are making the sexual tension so thick. As you rest a hand on him your certain even though you know it cant be that you can feel his pulse quicken.

“Max i…”

He doesn’t let you finish your sentence, his lips crash into yours, stealing your breath easing your soul, igniting the fire within your bones. He’s possessive as he pulls you into him. He knows you’re his in every way but that doesn’t stop him wanting to claim every last inch of you. You’d willingly be this man’s last meal if he asked you, his scent, his touch, his body, his mouth & those eyes that are are usually so soft now primal & wild, they all belong your man. No one else’s he’s yours.

His mouth leavers your lips, to your jaw, to your neck, to your throat, to where he likes to sip. He’s a man possessed. Too much to feast on. On such a beauty as you. He knows he should ask, he also knows he could use a mind trick but he wants you to willingly bring it up. The thing he wants most. His tongue flicks against the usual puncture holes, the teeth grazing, those prestige fangs starting to form. He lets out a small growl, it vibrates through your body.

“I want you”

“I know max”

“No I really want you in every way”

Your body melts & you moan as he softly starts to nip. It’s not painful anymore it’s arousing.

“Yes” you whimper.

“Sorry” he says & lifts his head

“ I said yes, take me to bed before I change my mind” you say & he lifts his head.

“Only if your sure darling & you must say black if it’s too much”

“Max i trust you with my life”

That’s all Max needs to hear.

Vampiric power is extraordinary in so many ways. In a flash he’s scooped you into his arms & carried you to your bedroom. You body feels like it’s falling in slow motion. In the time it takes you to get your jewellery off he’s gone & got some towels & a bottle of water & a few other supplies, incase things go wrong, although he keeps promising it never would, that he’d never hurt you, that it would make sex so much more enjoyable.

You’re excited as you both undress each other. You’re always excited for sex with max, but today it’s different. You’ve been drank before & after sex but never during it. This is a special treat & one that you know, now that you’ve opened Pandora’s box, he will expect more regularly.

After peeling away your clothes Max kisses every single inch of your skin. So full of life, so beautiful. He makes him more of a creature of a night than ever before. He’s savouring each kiss & touch. You moan as he sucks on your clit for a few minutes, your hands going into his hair. Your hips already rolling pushing his face further into your pleasure, as h gets you going.

“Fuck max”

“Don’t cum already baby” he giggles before his fangs then graze your nipples. He then pauses. He knows once he sinks his fangs into you & his penis, he will turn into an animal.

“Last chance darling” he says hopeful you still consent. Slight restraint in his voice. You pull him up so he can be near his usual drinking spot. Your hand traces over this jaw.

“I’m all yours max, in every way, yes I want this”

“Remember black” he says. He then very unromantic hits a timer next to your bed of 10mins, the longest the knows he can drink without doing any damage. You moan as he penetrates you slowly, filling up your cunt as he kisses you deeply. “I promise you will want this every night” he then licks down your throat, his hips slowly thrusting, you aren’t gripping the bedding yet but you can’t stop moaning already.

Finally his mouth as back at his supply. He sighs, licks & then softly sinks his fangs into your flesh. You’re gripping the bedding now.

Pleasure ripples through your body. You’ve never felt this high, you’ve never felt this happy. Sharp, hot, intoxicating, sexy, ritualistic. Your body arches as you moan pushing him into the air with you before you come back down onto the bed. It’s almost an out of body experience. Your own nails dig into Max to hold him in place, his growling & thrusts making each contraction of your cunt around his penis invigorating like you’ve been born again.

This isn’t just a drink, this isn’t just sex, this isn’t just a vampire & his partner being intimate, this is sacred. Each thrust sets off fireworks, each slurp has you both seeing stars. It’s binding you together in a moment of bliss.

Bzzzzz

The alarm goes off & Max to his word slowly removes his fangs from your neck, drops of blood fall onto where he drinks, your blood & his venom to seal the wound.

“Fuck baby” he snarls & then he picks his pace up. Those 10 minutes flew by, but the ferocity of both your orgasms makes you feel the same connection once again. Your body quivers in pleasure at your release. His face radiant & almost alive, from sweat blood & lust filled eyes.

“Perfect” he pants a few minutes later & lifts his head to look deeply into your eyes, moving a stray hair off your face. “How was it for you darling”

“indescribable”

“Is that good or bad?” You laugh at his response as your thumb traces over his lips. You suck your own blood off it.

“More” you say. Max looks shocked.

“M…more” Max is stunned his voice husky but it doesn’t take long for that smirk to return to his face. “darling do you have any idea what you just asked for” he murmurs as his hands cup your breasts & he slowly takes hold of you.

“Then show me Max” you challenge him.

“You greedy little thing” he says & he rolls back on top of you.

“Not really” you joke trying to lighten the mood as you get comfortable for round 2”I gave all of my chocolates away”Max laughs.

“Actually” he quickly leans over the top of his timer he had brought some chocolates upstairs with him. Those likely heart shaped chocolates which have caused all sorts of fun today. “Is one more gonna hurt” he says as he bites into his. He then feeds you the final chocolate. Your world exploding into colour once more. You tilt your head to the side.

“no it’s not baby”your practically vibrating with anticipation.

Slowly he pushes deep inside you, thrusting a few times watching your eyes glaze over from pleasure before he lowers his head to your neck.

“Happy Valentine’s Day darling” he whispers before growling in satisfaction as he sinks his fangs into the only sweetness he needs in his life.

[zeroseuniverse]

My Mess, Your Mess, Our Mess

Word Count: 768 Summary: “You always come running, no matter what kind of mess I make.” “That’s because you’d literally die without me.” Pairing: Jake X GN! Reader

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If there was one constant in your life, it was control. You thrived on order, schedules, and structure. You were the reliable one, the problem-solver, the person who always had a plan. That is, until Jake Sim crashed into your perfectly managed world like an unrelenting storm.

It started at work, where you first met him. He was a new hire, brought in by your boss who swore he was a genius despite his… tendencies. The first week alone, he set off the fire alarm—not once, but twice. The first time, he microwaved his coffee with a spoon still inside. The second? He somehow managed to spill an entire cup of instant ramen onto the office printer, which, for reasons beyond logic, resulted in sparks and a minor panic.

You had to explain to the fire department both times that no, it was not an actual emergency, and yes, it was the same person responsible.

“I swear I was just trying to print my expense report,” Jake had defended, flashing you a sheepish grin as if that would erase the chaos he had caused.

“You what?” You had pinched the bridge of your nose, exhaling sharply. “Why were you eating ramen next to the printer in the first place?”

“It was a multitasking experiment.”

“It failed.”

But the thing with Jake was, no matter how exasperated he made you, you couldn’t stay mad at him. Because as much trouble as he caused, he somehow always managed to drag you into it, too.

Like the time he roped you into helping him cook.

“I don’t know why you agreed to this,” you muttered as you stood in his kitchen, arms crossed while he rummaged through his cabinets. “You burn toast. Toast, Jake.”

“That’s an exaggeration.”

“Is it? Last week you set the break room toaster on fire.”

“That was an accident!” He looked at you with the most innocent expression, and you had to fight the urge to smile. “Besides, this time, I have you. You’re responsible. You can supervise.”

Supervise, it turned out, was an understatement. Because thirty minutes later, he had somehow flung sauce onto the ceiling, nearly sliced his finger cutting vegetables, and, in a grand finale, almost knocked over the entire pot of pasta while attempting to “save” a single noodle that had slipped onto the counter.

You had barely managed to grab his wrist in time, yanking him back before disaster struck.

“Are you trying to burn your apartment down?” you groaned.

Jake just laughed, his eyes bright with amusement as he looked down at where your hand was still gripping his wrist. “Nah. If anything, I’d say I’m making your life a little more exciting.”

That was the problem. You were starting to realize that maybe you didn’t hate the chaos he brought. Maybe you liked it more than you were willing to admit.

Maybe you liked him.

And that was dangerous.

You told yourself you were just looking out for him, that’s why you always came running to fix whatever mess he got himself into. But then there were moments—small, fleeting moments—that made you question everything.

Like when he’d grinned at you after that near-kitchen disaster, like you were the best part of his day.

Like when he’d brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear absentmindedly, as if he did it all the time.

Like now.

It was late, and you had found yourself once again in Jake’s orbit, this time because he had texted you I need help with no context. You had rushed over, only to find him staring at his laptop with the most defeated expression.

“I deleted the entire project file,” he admitted. “Like, it’s gone.”

You sighed, sitting down beside him and pulling the laptop towards you. “You know, one day, I’m going to let you suffer the consequences of your own disasters.”

“No, you won’t,” he said confidently, propping his chin on his hand as he watched you work. “You like me too much.”

Your fingers froze over the keyboard. Your heart did too.

You turned to glare at him, but he only smirked, leaning in slightly.

“You do,” he teased. “You always come running, no matter what kind of mess I make.”

“That’s because you’d literally die without me.”

“True.” He grinned, but there was something softer in his eyes now. “But also because you care.”

Your breath caught. He wasn’t wrong. You did care. And you were realizing, maybe, just maybe, you weren’t just putting out his fires.

Maybe you were falling straight into them.

And maybe you didn’t mind at all.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Hi! Can I please request a soft!dark fic with Lloyd Hansen? With a little age gap (she’s in her early twenties) Maybe he took her as at first only as a hostage in order to get someone he’s be hired to “take care of” out of hiding, but after a couple months of her being in his mansion (it’s taking a while for the guy he’s hunting to show up) he has become rather fond of her and has fallen in love with her. So when he finally catches the guy he’s going after, Y/n is expecting that he’ll let her go home now but he reveals that he never had any intention of letting her go and that she wants her to be his. She has never tried to run away, has always listened to whatever said. While she does start crying at the news that Lloyd is indeed not letting her leave, he manages to soothe her, promising that he’ll take care of her and love her and make her forget the way she got there, so she just clings to him taking solace in the warmth and comfort of his arms

Change Of Heart » Lloyd Hansen

Pairings: Soft Dark!Lloyd Hansen x Female Reader

Summary: Lloyd has a change of heart with you shortly after taking you hostage.

Warnings: Soft Dark, Fluff, language, age gap (reader is in her early 20s), held hostage, mentions of murder, crying, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the request, nonnie🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

Lloyd walks in the club with his hands in his pockets to look causal. He took a walk around the club before leaning against the wall. He looks at the sea of people who is either dancing or is too drunk to function. That’s when you caught his eye. He watches you for a moment before motioning one of his men over to him.

“Get her when she leaves.” Lloyd says lowly, pointing at you.

“Yes, boss.” He replies.

As it got later, you decided to leave. You were about to open the door to your car when someone grabbed you from behind and put a hand on your mouth to keep you quiet. You kicked and screamed, trying to fight off the person behind you, but it was no use. You felt yourself grow weak when you kept inhaling the chloroform that was on the small white rag in the person’s hand. The person picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder and walked over to Lloyd. Lloyd tilted your head up and moved your hair out from your face, making sure his men got the right person.

“Great job. Take her to my mansion.” Lloyd says.

His men nodded and did as they were told.

You woke up a while later in an unfamiliar room, which appears to be a bedroom. You sat up and looked around the room to gather your surroundings. You were in a state of confusion. You looked down, noticing you weren’t wearing the outfit you wore to the club last night. You were now wearing a sweat outside, which you’ll admit is comfortable. You got out of bed to walk around the bedroom. You walked over to the window, looking out of it. You were trying to figure out where you are, but nothing is coming to your mind. No one you know has a house this expensive.

You jumped when you heard the bedroom door open. You turned around to see a man with a mustache. He closed the door behind him. You stayed frozen in the spot you’re standing in, not daring to move a muscle. You didn’t dare to say a word either.

“Hello there, Y/N.” Lloyd says.

“How do you know my name?” You asked.

“I do thorough research on everyone.” He took a seat in one of the nice chairs one the other side of the bedroom. “Have a seat.” He says, gesturing to the chair across from him.

You hesitantly walked over to the chair and sat down.

“I’m Lloyd Hansen of Hansen Government Services and before you ask, you’re in my mansion.” Lloyd introduces himself. “The reason why you’re here is because someone who you’re acquaintances with and I hired is in hiding.” He says.

“Who?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“I think you know.” He says, leaning back in the chair.

You thought about it for a moment, but your mind is drawing a blank. You honestly don’t know who Lloyd is talking about.

“Anyways, I had you brought here as leverage against him to see if he’ll come out of hiding.” He says.

“What did I do?” You asked.

“Absolutely nothing, sunshine.” He replies. “I just want to see how long it takes him to come out of hiding so he can come to me.” He says.

“If whoever you’re talking about comes out of hiding, will you let me go?” You asked.

“Maybe or maybe not.” Lloyd answers.

Lloyd stood up from and walked to the door, putting his hand on the doorknob, but didn’t turn it.

“There’s books and magazines on the book shelf in the corner for you to read and food will be brought to you. There’s a bathroom in here and there’s clothes in the dresser for you.” Lloyd opened the door and then turned around. “One more thing, don’t even think about trying to escape.” He says.

Lloyd closed the door, locking it from the outside. You sighed and leaned your head against the chair. You stood up and walked over to the book shelf. You looked at the variety of books and magazines that are on the shelves. You grabbed a random one to read. You sat down on the bed, leaning your back against the headboard and covered your lap with the blanket. You might as well red the books and magazines since you’re not getting out of Lloyd’s mansion anytime soon.

The first few weeks you’ve been staying in Lloyd’s mansion, you haven’t tried to escape or run away in any way, which surprises Lloyd. He thought you would try to escape from him somehow at least once. He watched you closely just to be sure. He has a security camera hidden somewhere in the bedroom so he has eyes on you at all times. He doesn’t have it in there as a creep would. He just wants to make sure you don’t try anything he doesn’t want you to do.

“Hey there, sunshine.” Lloyd smiles as he walks in the bedroom two glasses and a bottle of scotch. “You want a drink?” He asks as he sat down in the chair.

You nodded and stood up from the bed, walking over to him and sitting down in the chair across from him. You watched as he poured some scotch in the glass and hand it to you. You hesitantly took it from it and looked in the glass.

“I didn’t poison it or anything if that’s what you’re thinking.” He says, taking a sip of his drink.

“It’s not that.” You mumbled. “What is it?” You asked as you continued to stare at the liquid inside of the glass.

“Scotch.” He answers.

“I’ve never tried it before.” You say.

“Try it. You might like it.” He says.

You stared at the scotch for a few more seconds before taking a sip of it. You felt the burn of it slide down your throat, but other than that, it’s pretty good.

“It’s good.” You say.

You stared at the glass and tapped your fingers against it as an awkward silence fills the room.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked after a moment.

“Sure.” Lloyd says, taking a sip of his drink.

“I’ve been here for a while and I was wondering when I could go home.” You say.

Lloyd sighs and puts the glass on the small table next to him.

“You’re not going anywhere, cupcake.” He says.

“Why not?” You asked.

“That acquaintance of yours isn’t here yet, which means you’re staying here until I see fit.” He says.

“Oh.” You mumbled quietly.

You put the glass on the small table and started fiddling with your fingers, avoiding eye contact with Lloyd. Your bottom lip quivered and you felt your eyes tearing up.

“Don’t be like that, sunshine.” He coos, gently tilting your head up so you were making eye contact with him. “If you’re thinking I’m going to hurt you or something, that’s not my intention. All I’m doing is waiting for him to show up. I promise to keep you safe. Ok?” He says softly.

You nodded softly. Lloyd smiles and kisses your forehead.

“Can I at least leave this room and roam around your mansion?” You asked.

Lloyd stared at you for a moment. He knows you’re not going to escape in any way. He’s not sure if he should give you free rein of his mansion. He knows he can trust you, but he wants to keep you in the bedroom a little while longer to build up that trust a bit more.

“I’ll think about it.” He says.

“Ok.” You say quietly.

Another few weeks go by before Lloyd finally gives you free rein of his mansion. He watched you like a hawk just to make sure you didn’t try anything. You roamed his mansion just to see what it looked like. Besides the bedroom he has you set up in, you hangout in the kitchen and the living room most of the time.

Also, you and Lloyd have gotten closer to each other. Lloyd has been developing feelings for you. Whenever your acquaintance gets back to him, he’s not sure if he wants you to let you go or not. He loves you too much to let you leave him. When that acquaintance of yours finally showed up, he decided to break the news to you.

“Hey, sunshine. What’re you up to?” Lloyd asks, walking in the living room.

“Just reading you say.” You say.

“I have something important to tell you.” He says, sitting down on the couch next to you.

“What is it?” You asked, bookmarking the page you’re on in the book you’re reading and put it on the coffee table.

“That acquaintance of yours finally showed up.” He says.

“Did he finish the work you hired him to do?” You asked.

“No, but he got taken care of.” He says.

“Taken care of?” You questioned, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

Lloyd let you think about it for a moment. That’s when you realize what he meant by “taken care of”. You gasped loudly.

“Why would you do that?!” You exclaimed.

“I had to, sunshine.” Lloyd says.

Your eyes teared up and a couple tears rolled down your cheeks.

“You could’ve talked to him and let him explain himself.” You say.

“I did, but he didn’t fulfill the job I hired him to do.” He says.

You started stammering with your words. You couldn’t figure out what you wanted to say now. At this point, tears were streaming down your face. Lloyd wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him as you cried.

“Not that I want to leave, does this mean I’m not leaving here?” You asked, looking up at him.

“I’m afraid so, sunshine.” Lloyd says softly.

You whimpered and looked down, avoiding eye contact with him. Lloyd gently tilted your head up so you were looking him in the eye.

“I’m not going to let a thing happen to you. I’m going to do everything I can to protect you.” Lloyd promises.

“Promise?” You asked with a sniffle.

“I promise.” He whispers.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you. Lloyd’s eyes flickered down to your lips, curiously thinking about how soft your lips would be against his. He leaned and pressed his lips against yours, kissing you sweetly. Lloyd expected you to push him away for kissing you, but you didn’t. Your hands grasped his shirt, clutching it tightly in your hands. You melted into his touch. He slowly pulls away, leaving you speechless from the mind blowing kiss he just gave you.

“I love you!” You blurted out.

Your eyes went wide and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand. A smile grew on Lloyd’s face, happy that you’re coming around to the idea of him even more.

“I love you too, sunshine.” Lloyd says softly, kissing you once more.

💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

-Bucky’s Doll

[secret-fungi]

Cry the treacherous one

rating: M pairing Shen x Nova words count: 3319 tws: emotional distress, mentions of harm, mentions of religious abuse/ trauma, trust issues. hurt/fluff

A/N hire me to write love letters im great at em

Shen knew that it was her from the moment the door opened from down the hall. He could tell by the soft footsteps that marked her path as she came. And when she appeared before him as he pulled the kettle from the stove, she paused for a moment to take him in. Her eyes trailed up from his muddy boots to his eyes, an arch in her brow as she looked at him, but she didn’t say anything, simply nodding her head before heading straight to where the pans were kept, she reached for the top of the cabinet and pulled out a pack of cookies. “Not even Vesper.” she said, pointing a warning finger at him as he poured her a drink. “Vesper doesn’t like this kind.” He said “Then there's no reason to tell her.” Nova said with a grin. 

He shook his head but took the offered cookie onto his plate, a soft private smile he only ever really wore for her as she came to sit across from him. He watched as she closed her eyes as she took a drink, and at the sight his throat closed. The hall light casted its strange glow against her, trailing its golden finger down the contours of her face, the dip of her cheekbone, the curl of her lashes. 

His eyes fell to her lips before he glanced down at his drink. He parted his lips in an attempt to tell her that they should stop these meetings, that she should save her sweets and he’ll save his tea, but his tongue sat dumb in his mouth and his lips stayed parted before he swallowed the thought that came to his mind and washed it down with a drink. 

She caught him looking and wordlessly and with a small smile she placed two more of the small cookies on his plate, and with a nod he pretended that was what was on his lips.

 She didn’t ask about his assignment, didn’t ask how it went, she didn’t ask details, instead she sent a wayward glance at his shirt, her eyes inspecting his coatless form as if it was some kind of omen. “It ripped.” He explained. She frowned slightly, her eyes leaving his chest to meet his eyes. “Are you okay?” she asked, her tone a touch too affectionate.  He nodded, grumbling out a brief reply and she nodded in turn, unphased by his unwillingness to spare her any details.  She never was. She was just happy to sit at the table where he had prepared her a drink, and where she had brought some sort of sweets. She was seemingly happy just to spend time with him. Happy to let the silence that filled the room be her only companion. 

He glanced at her and thought to ask if she was content with all his shortcomings, if a bitter man that couldn’t truly hold her hand was enough for her— if this— sitting a table's length across from each other without many words passing between them was enough for her. His finger ran over the painted side of his cup as he watched, he tried to ask, but she arched a brow at him as she bit into her cookie, the corners of her lips curling and a glint that only ever appeared when she looked at him settled across her features and the words dried out on his tongue. 

“You…” he started “We could do this in my room.” the words felt stiff and awkward even to his own ears. “Can I hide my snacks?” she asked after a moment, a flush dusting her cheeks. “I have a cabinet.” With a mischievous grin she nods. “Onyx won‘t find them there.” She said “Neither will Vesper.” he agreed.

“She doesn’t like this kind of cookie.” she repeated sagely. She was met with a laugh that was muffled by his drink.

You could squint and call these stolen moments dates, like you could squint and call the look on Shen’s face affectionate. In some way it was just a matter of perspective. The table was wide, and his arms were long, his hand stretched out and made a show of his attempt at stealing a cookie from her plate, but she simply took his hand, eyes watching his hand as her finger drew shapes on his palm. 

“You turned off your runes.” she said in a soft, almost surprised voice. “I did.” He replied hoarsely. A tired smile stretched across her full lips and just for a moment he forgot why he was mad at her, and then his eyes left her smile and he remembered. Forgiveness was a tricky thing, hard and bitter and he wondered if he told her all of who he was would she even still try?

He couldn’t think of a reason why she would want to, the only one that made sense was a bitter tasting thing that he couldn’t be asked to say out loud.

“What?” she asked as she drew soft hearts on his palm. “Do you want some more tea?” he asked, “Shen.” He let out a deep sigh as if the very marrow in his bones were holding it in before he looked at the table. He’s heard her story, he’s listened and came back to it and he knew it, but a nagging feeling asked if she did as well. If she remembered the details, if it was true.

“Why?” He finally asked, and before he could stop them his words came like the north wind and before she could answer he continued “What can I even give you?” she’s not taken aback by this question, her reaction was slow, her fingers stopped moving against his palm and her eyes landed on his before she answered. “You’re…” “if you say friendly I’m leaving.” he warned. She laughed, the sound was something bright and beautiful, something that curled around your heart and gave it a squeeze.

“No, definitely not. I just…“ the words died on her lips, she licked them off before with a breath she tried again; “I just want a quiet life with you.” “I thought you hated the silence.” “You’re not as quiet as you think, Shen.” she said, ignoring the tone the man used.

“That’s it, then?” He asked, ”That’s it.” She confirmed before after a beat she adds “My dad wasn’t interested in you.” ”Who was he interested in?” He asks, she gives him a strange look and spares saying the obvious. 

“Oh.” He finished his drink to stop himself from saying what danced on the tip of his tongue. 

The routine was the same every time, once the tea was finished and they had no more to eat, he would push the chair back, collect the dishes and after washing them together they would part. It was always the same. He was trapped between wanting to pull away and fall closer into her, somewhere between love and fear– somewhere in the universe there was a floating dollhouse, and in it sat the kitchen table with warm tea and sweets laid out on top of it, where Shen, Nova and Love all sat in silence. 

She glanced at her cup, still only half empty, and then glanced back to his plate, with a cookie half eaten still sitting, and then with a strange expression on her face she finished her drink too.

He retracted his hand, the doodles she traced burrowing their way into him as he finished his cookie.

His hand twitched at the loss of contact as he used the table to push himself up from his seat and with an unsure step forward he stood beside her, collecting her dishes as she rose to her feet after him. 

The cookies back in their hiding place and the water turned on, the date was at its end.

              The routine was the same. In the quiet mornings, or loud, rushed nights, it was the same in the winter as it was in the autumn, and when spring comes to shake off its fur coat, it will be the same then, too.

He passed the wet dish to her and she dried it before putting it on the rack. She hummed, and as he glanced at her through the corner of his eyes, he smiled a soft smile she was too distracted to catch.

In the silence questions and pleas lurked, they curled their fingers around their limbs and climbed up cabinets and walls, they hung from lights and the wooden beams on the ceiling, they lurked under beds and hid in closets— anything to be answered, anything to be heard.

Say something, anything. Why don’t you just tell me? Promise it’s me, Tell me that in the end, you’ll stay. The silence begged as the last dish was dried. But they paid no mind to the cries.

She looked at him as he stood before her with his foot halfway out the door. She tilted her head as she watched him, her lips parted, ready to defend herself from any accusations but there were none to be found, just rough lips that pressed themselves against hers, he leaned into her as if he wasn’t sure he should, like he was listening to all sides of the argument in his head as to why his hands shouldn’t be on her waist as he lifted her up to sit on the counter.

His body was kept between her thighs and his hand buried into her hair. Soft, dark curls that smelt like flowers wrapped around his fingers, her hands tugged him closer, and wordlessly he complied.

Promise me that somewhere within your heart, there is a place for me. 

Her fingers curled into his shirt, her legs wrapping around him. It wasn’t enough to be close. It wasn’t enough— like a drowned man he took her in like air. His hand dropped to follow the contours of her body. His fingers sunk into the fleshy bit of her hips. A split decision, one he wasn’t sure what in him made, was his mind aware of this desire? or did his heart work alone? When did it decide to let her in?

They broke apart, his hands still on her hips and hers still curled around in his shirt. her eyes half lidded, her lips red and kiss swollen, irritated by his stubble and drunk on his scent. 

          Her thoughts were so loud. He could almost read them in the air. He looked at her for a moment too long to be less than intimate, and thought to himself ‘How could anyone look at Nova and not see so clearly how much she loved.’ 

The truth never hid, it sat in the crinkles of her eyes and the curl of her lips, in the flush of her cheeks, and the way she said his name.

The truth was simple, you didn’t need to ask her to know it, but if you did… She’d tell you that she missed him before she knew his name, maybe it was the part of her heart he must’ve always claimed calling out to her, whatever it was she had found in him, it was peaceful, it was safe, it was love. 

He found that the truth scared the hell out of him, and so he silenced it with his lips, he closed his eyes and blocked his ears, still his hands pulled her closer.

She had become a habit, an unshakable, treacherous habit. To go to her and rest, as if home was not peaceful without the smell of the other, without the sounds of soft breathing and the almost silent presence of another person. In times like these, where they didn’t say much, where a head resting on a shoulder was enough, when silence said “I love you” Maybe, you needed times like those, to help ease the nicks and burns all the other times gave you. 

She had become worse than a habit or a routine— she had become breathing, the unconscious, easy movements needed to live. she had become vital. 

She had become— Everything.

They parted, their lashes casted shadows on their cheeks, and for a moment they stayed together just so. 

Sometimes, Shen was sure that your heart betrays your tongue and forces its words to your lips, and in an instant, he was sure that was what happened when he said; “Stay with me tonight.” “okay.” she replied. 

He kept stealing glances at her as they walked to his room, and whenever he did she’d meet his gaze, and without fail, he would look ahead once again. Once they were there he didn’t know what to do, he straightened out the sheets on his bed and offered her a spot.  

If she was waiting for more, for conversation, for anything you would expect with coming to a man’s room at night, she didn’t say so. She simply got ready for bed beside him, and when they climbed into bed, they laid stiffly for a long while until her hand rested in between them, and he took it in his own, and brought it to rest on his stomach. 

“I'm trouble, Nova.” He said into the darkness “Trouble loves me.” she replied, “You love trouble.” “Maybe it’s both.” She said easily. “You don’t….” he paused. ”You should find someone your age.” for a long time it was silent, not even a breeze broke the silence, before she turned to look at him.

“Did you take me to your bed to break up with me?” “I didn’t know we were together.” He said 

“You did.” She said with a grin

Sometimes he’s sure she just likes to watch the blood drain from his face. 

Because there she is, looking at him with this knowing grin. She's won the game they played and they both know it. He feels too old to still be playing around, to be too afraid to call a spade a spade, to admit that he— so he presses his lips against hers.

“I did.” he admits after they part. “I’m just….” He starts, grasping at the air for an explanation, something he could hand her so that she would see what he did and walk away. He wished to scare her off, that there was nothing– there couldn’t be. He couldn’t bear it. But she smiled, her hand tracing the lines of a rune.

 He knew, of course he knew, that she wouldn’t take any of the reasons he could give as enough of a reason to leave.

“I’d take you no matter how you came.” she said “You could be anyone, and I would still want you.” She repeats. It sounded firm, sure. strange. “You won’t like me,” he warned. “I will.” she promised with a kiss to his shoulder.

Somewhere within the night, they had drawn themselves closer, His nose buried itself into the crook of her neck, his arms coming to wrap around her waist, legs tangled together and his chest pressed against her back. 

As he fell asleep he heard a whispered “this is nice.” before he sank into a deep sleep, deep and peaceful. 

         If it had been another day, he would have woken up immediately, but the day was long and it had dragged him down, he didn’t wake when she left his arms, or when his bed cried at the loss, he didn’t wake to her footsteps, or the door closing. 

He slept through it all and he woke alone, the place where she had slept empty and long gone cold. There was soft humming coming from the corner, and as he followed the sound he found her in a chair by the light as she worked, the silver needle glinting in the light as she tugged it through the thick material of his coat, her foot shaking to her tune as she worked. She hadn’t noticed him, not yet. And for a while he watched her from where he laid. 

His eyes followed her every movement before for some time, watching as she held up his coat to the light before she went back to fixing it. She must’ve known he would simply have it fixed, but she had taken it upon herself for whatever reason to do it herself.  It was strangely hypnotic, the shaking of her foot, the sound of the thread being pulled through the fabric, the soft song he almost recognized. 

He watched as she pricked her finger, then after a soft ‘ow’ she placed it in her mouth, and when the blood didn’t stop soon enough for her she bandaged it up and got to work once more. He wanted to tell her that he wasn’t worth the trouble, that he would have it fixed in the morning. 

But he stayed silent, watching as she worked. A small, quiet act of love that she didn’t bother to tell him she had done, like too many things in their relationship it was a whispered confession.

She stayed for a while, before she held it up to the light, and with a proud smile as she deemed it finished and placed it back where he had it before she made her way back to his bed again.

            He waited till her knee was on his bed to turn and lift the blanket for her, her eyes darted up to meet him and she looked as if she had been caught with her hand in the jar.

“Nova,” he called. “I was just fixing it.” she said in a rush. “why?” he asked. Her lips parted before she shrugged. 

“I wanted to do something nice.” she said he nodded slowly. They lingered before he watched her retreat, walking to the chair before she brought it to him as if to prove her innocence, and he turned on the lights.

He held up the coat, inspecting the space where a nasty gash had been, and found no gash, only the small hidden stitch that was almost imperceptible. “How did you manage this?” He asked in astonishment. 

“My mother always had me sew, all sorts of things, She’d say that ‘the devil makes use of idle hands’ and give me piles of things that needed repairing.” she explained and with a horrified look on his face he imagined her home something akin to a workhouse, something like hell. And in that moment he pulled her into him, letting her fall onto him.

She let out a startled laugh as he pressed a kiss to the center of her chest, her arms trying to catch herself against the wall as he pulled her closer.

“You never mentioned that bit.” He said “hm?” “When you told us about your childhood you never said they made you work.” Her hand stopped its movements in his hair and against his lips he swore her heart froze for three beats.

“You wanted the bad bits.” She said “Nova…” “It’s normal, you had to work too, right?” “It’s not right.” He said 

She remained quiet. He could almost see her expression, furrowed brow and wrinkled nose. 

And his lips, disobedient as they were, let slip what he had held for so long; “Why you still call them your parents beats me.” he murmured. 

“I’m scared to be alone.” she admits after a while.

She didn’t know where reality started and the lies she had been told ended, she didn’t know the difference between a loving hand and a hateful fist–

And he knew too well where this would end. 

Loving ends with bruises on your heart where kisses used to be, but still he lays kisses above her heart, because just for a moment, for this moment— She’s his to love.

Against the warm, soft skin of her chest a low promise was made, so faintly that you could hardly hear.

“You won’t be.” 

[emmavakarian-theirin]

it just makes sense to me that lucanis would be the one to kill the venatori mage and he deserves it

[uniiiquehecrt]

Voice actors are NOT the same as actors.

It takes a specific kind of skill-set and training to be able to warp and meld the voice. It takes a certain kind of talent and dedication to hone that talent into the ability to meld the voice and invoke emotion with one's voice alone. Actors are used to using their voice secondarily to their body language and their facial expressions. It's all mirrored back on camera. They do have nuance. But it's a different kind of nuance and a different kind of training to produce that nuance.

Voice actors might get their likeness transposed on their character's design, and maybe their mannerisms might seep into the character's animation. But when it's all said and done: their presence is in their voice. They are bringing a character to life, showing that emotion in their voice, trying to keep a specific accent, drawl, pitch, tone in that voice and keep it consistent for their recording sessions.

The voice actor is like a classically trained musician who can play first chair in a competitive, world-renown orchestra. The actor (who fills the voice actor's role) is like a moot who played violin in beginner and intermediate high school orchestra and thinks they can get into Juilliard with that 2-4 years of experience.

This doesn't mean that the HS orchestra moot can't play. They can even be really good at it. Maybe they won competitions and sat first chair. But they are not in the same league as the person who's been training their whole lives and lives and breathes to hone their craft using the instrument and all of the training they've ever acquired to perfect it. They are not meant for the same roles. They are not in the same caliber. You do not hire the HS equivalent when you want to play complex music in a competitive orchestra.

Actors are not the same as voice actors.

And furthermore, actors - especially big name actors - taking the roles of animated characters for big budget films or TV pilots makes no sense anyways when - at least in the case of TV pilots - there's not a point to hiring a big budget actors anyways. That money could be used elsewhere (like paying your animators), and the talent that is brought onto the screen for X character could then be hired on to voice said character no recasting required.

I wouldn't say voice acting as a profession is in danger exactly, but it's certainly being disrespected and overlooked for celebrity clout, and this has ALWAYS been an issue. Shoot, even Robin Williams knew that much - which is why he tried so hard not to be used as a marketing chess piece for Aladdin and got royally pissed off when it happened anyways. People shouldn't go to any movie (but especially not animated films) because "oh famous actor is in it". People should go because it's a good movie and the voice acting is good.

People who honest to god think that voice actors are replaceable because "oh well anyone can voice act" or "I like xyz celebrity so naturally it'll be good" ... Honestly I just wish you'd reassess your priorities because you're missing the point and are part of the problem.

Voice Actors ≠ Actors.

[sysig]

Coming in to play! (Patreon)

[disappearinginq]

Wait. Does no one know the story of how he got the role of Bond?

He hated the character and had no intention of doing the movies or even auditioning. But then his name got dropped by the Queen, who apparently loved him and wanted to see him as Bond. So his agent made him go, because hey, it's the queen, and Craig was like "fine, I'll audition but I'm going to tank it". So he did the reading, except to make sure he didn't get the role, he threw the script halfway through and railed against how stupid it was, terrible plot, terrible writing, etc, and stormed off.

Satisfied that he had for sure gotten his name off the list for consideration, he flipped shit when they called him to tell him he got the role, because that is EXACTLY what James Bond would've done. They made a deal with him - sign on for 5 movies, but if 2 out of the first 3 didn't succeed, they'd release him from the contract. But - if 2 out of 3 did well, he had to do all 5. Casino Royale was a hit. Quantum of Solace bombed. And then Skyfall came out and was the most successful Bond film since Goldfinger, and his fate was sealed.

Anyway. That's why the promo shorts had Queen Elizabeth in them, because it was a running joke that she was the reason he was Bond.

[ashtonisvibing]

screaming crying throwing over the fnaf movie trailer

[un-pearable]

my sincerest condolences. godspeed soldier

THANK YOU THEYRE DEARLY APPRECIATED

[readwritealldayallnight]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who from the moment he laid eyes on you, has only ever referred to you as his wife

You, this sweet little thing, running through the halls on base one day when you turn a corner and nearly run headfirst into the Lieutenant, who’s walking alongside Soap

“Oh! Sorry about that, sir.” You told him, never slowing down in your hurried pace as you snuck around his large frame and continued down towards whatever you were evidently late for

The only reason his gaze had followed your retreating form, was that unlike everyone else, you had met his eyes when you spoke, even smiled warmly up at him

That one smile and he was done for

“Who was tha’?” The sergeant had questioned, seeing Ghost’s attention still fixated on you.

“Think that was my wife.”

“Yer what?!”

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who makes it a point to let everyone know that you are in fact his wife

Well, everyone apart from you apparently

He would certainly never abuse his position as a Lieutenant, but some new recruit had the audacity to whistle at you as you walked by? Well 100 laps around the base don’t exactly run themselves

Another soldier saved you a seat next to him in a briefing? He can enjoy scrubbing toilet seats for the next week in that case

Someone actually had the bollocks to ask you for your phone number? Perfect, he needed a volunteer for demonstrating hand to hand combat to the recruits, medics on standby of course

By the time he properly introduces himself to you for the first time, it’s understood by everyone else around that you are, for all intents and purposes, Mrs Riley

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who listens to you tell him your name in a voice that resembles music to his ears, hardly bothering to remember your last name, seeing as it’ll be changing soon enough anyway

“You can call me anythin’ you want, love.” His deep, gravelly voice had sent shivers down your spine, cheeky smirk widening beneath his mask. “So long as you call me, that is.”

By the end of your first date, (you were sitting alone in the dining hall and he wordlessly joined you what do you mean this isn’t a date) he’s wondering if you’ll insist on a ceremony or if he can sweep you away to the nearest courthouse and make this official, slipping a ring onto you finger and himself into you

You had laughed when he put his number into your phone and named himself ‘Husband’, certain that the man was only messing with you, some kind of hazing that you apparently weren’t aware Lieutenants played on the new communications hire, but it was only fair seeing as he’d saved your contact under ‘Wife’

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who is over the moon every time you play along, even if he knows you believe you’re only playing

“Ach, thanks Lt. Just what I needed.” Soap said, seeing Ghost’s approaching form enter the common room, holding a steaming cup of tea in each hand

“S’for my wife. Get your own.” The older man gruffly replied, sliding the mug onto the side table next to where you’re curled up on the couch, reading a book

“Aw, thank you honey.” You giggled, smiling up as him with an expression he thinks would taste even sweeter than honey if he were to run his tongue across your upturned lips

“Happy wife, happy life, sergeant.” Ghost shrugged, ignoring the other man’s pout, landing next to you and reaching an arm behind you across the back of the couch

“God, maybe I really should keep you.” You’d laughed, reaching a leg out to dig your socked toes into his muscled thigh, teasing him

Grasping your foot into his large, strong hands, he began massaging it, uncaring that you were only two of the many people in the common room, not when you looked at him like that, smiling together as though you truly were nothing more than a married couple

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who surprised you one day, insisting he needed your help with something crucial off base, and drove you to a local shopping outlet to look at none other than dresses

“Is there some sort of party happening?” You’d questioned, confused out of your mind

“Suppose you could consider it a party.” He’d answered, leading you through the many racks of dresses, you noticed were all, very conveniently, white

“Now while you’re lookin’ through dress sizes,” he’d added, taking your left hand in both of his. “You know your ring size? Got my own shoppin’ to do ‘round here.”

Series masterlist

[onrainynights]

every day that goes by it feels more and more likely that I'll get this promotion and I can't believe I'm at a place in my life where that's even a possibility. like last year I had just the absolute worst time with employment and just had a horrible year in general but I feel like I got so lucky finding this job. except they felt lucky to find ME. like the hiring manager told me she was so happy to have multiple candidates and that I was easily the best out of the group (she's had to hire people out of desperation/only having one candidate before and they never worked out bc they weren't good fits at all) and my confidence has skyrocketed since I started working there because my boss and coworkers treat me like an equal even though I'm young and relatively inexperienced. they treat me like they believe I'm capable and competent and it makes me feel capable and competent and it's incredible. the idea that I could be getting a promotion for the first time in my life after only 3 months at this place is insane but I'm so hopeful because nobody acts like it's a far-fetched idea. I'm taken seriously and it gave me the confidence I needed to actually say that I'm interested in that promotion and that I know I'm capable of doing that position. plus the company itself is great honestly, I feel really lucky to work there. even as a part time employee at the lowest level I feel genuinely important and appreciated. I've already met the person who would be my boss if I get promoted and she seems just as respectful as everyone else. are all employee-owned companies like this???

[tonycries]

Your (Super)Man - N.K.

Synopsis. He’s not a bird. He’s not a plane. He’s…just Nanami Kento from the journalism department. But you have a feeling that Nanami’s hiding a super big secret - and not just the one down there.

Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, Clark Kent! Nanami, SUPERMAN AU, aphrodísiacs, coworkers-to-Iovers, he is a GENTLEMAN, slight víoIence, Itadori cameo, saving people, píning, manhandIing, he is BIG, cervíx kíssing, making it fit, pússydrúnk Nanami, oraI (fem rec.), BRÉEDING, creampíes, cúmplay, spítting, Nanami’s POWERS, matíng presses, face-sítting, buIges, BREAKING THE BED, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 9.7k

A/N. CLARK KENT(O) NANAMI SAVE MEEEE

“There’s just something about him, Shoko.”

“Right…”

You’re flicking a quick roll of your eyes as your coworker continues stealing drowsy sips of her early morning coffee. Well, her fifth of the morning. Grumbling out, “I swear- There’s just something about him that feels so…” Eyes drifting - as they much seemed to do these days - to the man in question. “-different.”

And, listen, Shoko would whole-heartedly prefer the tittering office gossip with you over working on her weeks-late article any day of the week. 

But times like this, she really had no idea whether the two of you were staring - undoubtedly creepily - at the same Nanami Kento. 

That stoic, mild-mannered hire who’d just been freshly accepted into your journalism sector. Tall, seemingly powerful - yet, he acted anything but. A gentle giant with the suspicious patience of a saint even against the worst of editors - honestly, she’s musing, just who was this guy?

“Hm…” Fingers digging into her achy temples as if trying to will away the memory of her upcoming deadlines. And this. “Maybe you just need to get laid. A proper, genuine good f-”

“Shoko.”

And she’s cracking her first laugh of the day, ducking underneath her computer screen with a sigh as Yaga passes by dangerously close. “Well, you were thinking about it. Harlot.”

You’re sighing, too - though for a much different reason, she imagines. 

Gaze narrowing as you finally rip them away from the blond-haired man dwarfing the corporate cubicle opposite the two of you. Bumbling and fixing the glasses on his face for the nth time this hour. “W-well it doesn’t help that he’s hot.”

Shoko’s mere milliseconds away from opening her sharp mouth once more - and you’re mere milliseconds away from wincing at what was surely to fall from them. Before- 

A call of your name.

Ah, saved by the bell - or, your managing editor, more like. Though, you weren’t sure if you’d consider it “saving” when Yaga’s holding out a crisp stack of documents your way. Brows furrowed underneath his sunglasses, he gruffs out, “They finally cleared the pitch for your article on that flower. You’re good to go.”

“O-oh, that’s great. Thank you.” Plastering on a simpering smile on your face, you’re hastily clasping those papers. “I’ll get started on the interviews right away.”

Articles on flower shops weren’t quite the adrenaline-thumping journalism you’d expected to work on when you first joined this company. Initially concocting fantasies about interviewing your city’s nefarious villains or perhaps even…Superman .

But ah, those were just dreams. And it seems that someone here had to report on things like mysterious flower shipments to local florists - which just-so-happened to be you.

You’re pulled out of your pitiful little reverie by another echo of your name. Turning back to Yaga, brows raised. “Yes?”

“And take Nanami with you.”

Oh.

Oh. 

“Ah, sorry you’re paired up with me, Nanami.” You’d be chuckling much, much later when you’d gathered your files and your wits to be stuffed inside an elevator with your coworker. “I’d imagine something like this probably wouldn’t have been your ideal first taste of real journalism.”

Eyes straying anywhere but where you could spy the way the suit buttons over his chest looked like they were about to pop! Nanami was unfairly attractive, even when he was slouched and nervously struggling to meet your eyes with his honeypool ones.

Always known around the rest of the company to be so timid - but you get the feeling that he was being extra jumpy around you.

He’s shaking his head - golden strands of hair curtaining his handsome face. “Please don’t worry. I’m only grateful that you’re taking me with you, I-I promise to try my best not to be a burden, ma’am.”

“Aw, no need to call me that. We’re the same age, after all.” Subtly, you’re mashing the button for the ground floor a few more times. Suddenly reminded of how dizzyingly tiny this space was. How much of it he was occupying. “And I can’t promise that I won’t be a burden, either.”

You’d meant it as a joke - you really did. But after seeing the way that Nanami’s forehead crinkles with a furrow, you almost wish you could take back those words. 

“Anyone would be lucky to have you as a partner.” He’s mumbling - such earnestness dripping from his rich baritone that you can feel your eyes widening a fraction. And Nanami sees it, too. 

“Oh?”

“I mean-” Fingers fumbling to push up his thick-rimmed glasses, he’s tightening his yellow speckled tie almost as if he wished to choke away that burning flush creeping up from the back of his drooped neck and blossoming at the tips of his ears. “Just- just that you’re one of the most c-competent journalists in our company and I’m only honored to be learning from the best and- o-oh, it seems we’re here.” 

It’s a wonder that Nanami noticed - it’s a wonder that you noticed once those metallic doors parted like a curtain to reveal the bustling lobby. Finally here.

He’s holding out the curved end of one big, strong arm, bent at the elbow to show off the straining stretch of his flexing biceps. And you can’t help but ogle. “M-may I?”

It takes you copious seconds of staring at the thoroughly outlined bulge of his sculpted arm for you to finally snap to your senses. And a few more to finally realize what he was asking. 

Something warm and mushy pools in your stomach. Fuck.

Tentatively wrapping your hands around the rock-hard mounds of flesh so that Nanami - ever-the-gentleman - could tenderly escort you out, as if this was a ballroom and not your workplace. 

And you can’t help but think that perhaps you didn’t mind tedious interviews if it went anything like this. 

.

.

.

“So, there’s no sender address?”

“Nope.”

“No date?” 

“Nada.”

“And no postage?” 

“Tch, I wish!”

You’re tapping your trusty pen against the parchment of the notepad, gears wracking in your thoroughly overworked brain. “Mr. Itadori, is there a possibility that this might be a prank?”

Wasuke Itadori shakes his head with a grunt, weathered fingers brushing over the aggressively violet petals of a flower you think looked too bizarre to even be pulled out of your very dreams. He’s tapping the stiff flower once. Twice. 

And you’re gasping when a tiny puff of shimmering pink billows out like a heady cloud. Perfumed. Hypnotizing. A musky vanilla that makes you draw in further, and reminds you of- Eyes peeking over at an aloof Nanami…him. 

“See? Smells jus’ like my wife’s cheap citrus perfume. N’ unless she’s haunting me from beyond the grave as she said she would, it seems too elaborate of a prank ta me. It’s obviously livin’, but I can’t find any information on this flower for the life of me.” The older man crosses his arms, scowling, “Ya have no idea how many times I’ve had ta stop my stupid grandson from trying to eat this thing.”

Humming, you’re jotting down a few notes - fingers tremoring ever-so-slightly at Nanami’s burning gaze right beside you. “Have there been any strange effects on the other flora since you’ve acquired this special flower?”

“Nah, nothing at all- that’s the thing, s’like it’s alien or something. Just showed up at my door one day n’ I dunno what it is.” He’s grouching - and you have to agree. That is strange. 

You’d never heard of any other florist’s receiving this type of strange…gift? 

But you can’t voice anything more before a voice sounds from outside the see-through door, and the man before you clicks his tongue. “Ah! Dammit, that reminds me- my flower vendor’s here already. Excuse me while I step outside, you can throw the lil’ gremlin in with the marigolds if he bothers ya too much.”

You’re holding back a chuckle - honestly, this was nothing like you expected, you think you would have enjoyed this interview regardless. 

Wasuke was a doting grandpa - as much as he may deny it. And his tiny, pink-haired menace of a grandson was positively bouncing off the walls at having official journalists enter the cozy flower shop. Dangling midair off of a closely-observing Nanami’s shoulders with two chubby arms wrapped around the other’s neck.

Though, you certainly weren’t complaining at the sight.

“Hey- pretty lady- mister Nananamin-” Yuji’s squeaking into his ear. “Are you two married?” 

You’re sure that if Wasuke was within earshot he’d have grabbed the child by the scruff of his neck. But, alas, Nanami was beared with none of that mercy. 

Teasing, “Hmm, would you like to answer this, Nanami?”

“No- I mean yes! N-no, this lovely lady and I are not married.” He’s huffing out a low bout of laughter, massive palms barely even having to try to pick up Yuji’s wiggling body. And you can’t stop the way your heart lurches when he’s softly cradling the younger boy in one arm - fuck, you really need to get yourself together.

“Why not?”

And perhaps for the first time since you’ve known him, Nanami Kento looked truly and utterly stunned. Hazel eyes pleading your way, mouth opening and closing a few desperate times. “Well…”

But Yuji only plows on with the oblivious confidence that only comes with being freshly five. “Then, since you’re erm- what was that word Megumi said? Uh- d-divowced, can I marry her?”

Ah.

Giggling behind your palm, you’re almost on the verge of saving your poor coworker. Almost. 

That is, before it happens. 

CRASH!

You can’t hear anything, you can’t feel anything, you can’t see anything - other than a bright, blood red. Fuck- 

“N-Nanami? Yuji?” Your voice is shrill - cracking, and you’re unsure if the way you grimace is because of how utterly pathetic you sound or because of the complete devastation in front of you. “Wh-what…”

Shit. 

Heaps upon heaps of concrete and wrecked pieces of building pile upon what was once the Itadori family flower shop. Flowerpots knocked over, the ceiling crumbling, bright morning sunlight filtering from above to illuminate a thick blanket of swirling dust. 

As if a whirlwind had wrecked it through and caught up you right in the middle of it - purposefully. 

Shit shit shit-

Gasping, heaving to try and scramble your thoughts into one big coherent one - but then instantly regretting it when your entire body wracks with painful coughs. You’re so confused - head churning with exactly what’s happening right now - that you barely even register the large hand soothing over your back.

Your ears ring with a sharp keen, eyes bleary and tinging with black - it hurts. And you’re pressing a hand to your forehead with a hiss. Unbalanced voice on the edges of shattering into a zillion pieces, “What happened- wh-where-”

“Shhh shh shh, you’re going to be alright, darling.”

What? 

Your head snaps up - it’s then that you notice it.

Finally. 

Body tucked safely behind the overarching counter of the flower shop, far from where the sudden impact of something would have hit you. You’re crouched against all the wood and debris that dug uncomfortably into your legs. Your hands tremble - but not just with fear, no, with the tearful cries of a curled-up Yuji snuggling thankfully safely into your body.

All in the arms of…Nanami?

But, wait, no- it was as if it wasn’t him at all. 

Because gone were those heavy glasses framing his pretty face, and you’re blinking your lethargic lids urgently to drink in the stern, serious features they’d left behind. Brows furrowed, plump lips pulled tightly when he’s clenching his jaw, muscles flexing as he’s holding you two tighter - as if subconsciously. 

There was something different about him, something…magnetic, like a flip had just switched on. And you’re definitely blaming the way your head was swimming - but you can’t help but think he looked so hot.

Fuck - now’s not the time.

Soft locks of blond were windswept to slick back, that snug coat of his tattered onto the floor to display an emblazoned logo that you wouldn’t be able to mistake even if you tried. 

“You’re…” you breathe, and it’s a wonder that the syllables come out coherent at all. Jaw falling slack at the glimpses of that familiar skin-tight red and blue suit you’ve seen smeared across every magazine, every news column, and every show these days. “...Superman.”

And it takes a second. Two. 

Until Nanami’s long lashes flutter with a little pant of laughter, a singular thick finger straightening into a shush-ing gesture when he’s smiling down warmly at a sniffling Yuji, “This’ll be our little secret, right?”

“Y-yes!” The little boy hiccups, plump palms scrambling to cover his mouth. And you think you could spy a tiny smile rising through his short fingers. Though it wavers, “Mister Nananamin- I mean- Mister Superman, my grandpa is still outside…”

He’s nodding, “I’ll keep you all safe-” Before turning to you with eyes so scorching that you can feel yourself inch in closer against the stiff fabric of his supersuit. “-all of you.” 

“Ahhh~ touching touching. Didn’t think I’d run into dear ol’ Superman here.” A high, eerie voice rings over the thundering blood pumping to your head, and you’re burying even deeper into Nanami’s sculpted side. “But ah, not to worry, Man of Steel, m’jus’ here to pick up a little lost package of my friend’s so…”

Nanami’s stiffening underneath your touch, and with a slow nod he’s getting up from your little hiding place. 

And if looks could kill - which you knew Superman could do - then the greyish, patched man in front of you wouldn’t have been waltzing in through the utterly destroyed door already. As if he owned the place. Owned all of you. 

“Mahito, we’ve spoken before.” Nanami’s voice was hardened with a growl in a way you’ve never heard. Fuming. “Leave now and no one gets hurt.”

There’s a metallic click! resonating across what was left of the four walls of this shop, as if he was loading some type of gun. But not as you’ve ever known one. 

And Nanami’s eyes narrow with a thick coating of tension when Mahito’s fingers curl around that flower - the exact one you’d come here to interview about in the first place. Plucking it neatly from the vase before crushing the waxy petals between his fingers. 

“You sure ya wanna talk to me like that when you’ve got civilians here, Superman?” Voice airy, delighted. As if he wasn’t currently loading an opening in that specialized gun with the gooey insides of that flower. Before pointing it - right at the bullseye where you were scoured away. “Especially with sweetcheeks here? Don’t think I don’t know how soft ya are for-”

Nanami stretches into an attack-ready position. “So you’re after the innocents again.”

“Ah- no, actually.” Mahito snickers. Snickers. “I’m after you.”

BANG!

It all happens so fast that you’re not even sure if everything’s part of your imagination - whether this is all still a dream. 

Because in the bat of an eye, Mahito has the slightly-glowing barrel of the gun pointed your way. Bursting the counter into nothing but a few shockwaves and shards of plastic. 

And in the bat of much less, Nanami’s shielding you with his entire body, sculptured front glissading against your back, beefy arms curled snugly around your waist. Head tucked over yours to make sure every inch of you is protected, Yuji placed gently at his side. 

Your bleary vision clouds with a familiar fog of pink - dazzling and addictive with that same musky perfume. Was- wasn’t this what Wasuke had shown you earlier?

“Shit! Wh-what the fuck is this?!” You’re hearing off in the distance - or perhaps it was right beside you, you didn’t even know at this point. “That damn Hanami- this isn’t the poison-”

He’s letting off a shiver, before gritting out. One arm holding out to you just as it had in the elevator, the memory hits you with pang. “Y-you two need to get to safety. Now. May I?”

If it weren’t for the hours of droning meetings faced with Nanami, the weeks of trying to get him to speak with you - months of memorizing every syllable that dripped from his pretty lips, then you wouldn’t even have noticed. But you did. 

“W-wait-.” Your throat scratches and struggles to get the words out, matching the shakes in his own tone. “You’re hurt, aren’t you?”

But the only answer you get is a soft, mysterious smile. And the repeated hum - as if you weren’t wrangling yourself around to peek at where he was undoubtedly hit. “No need to worry about me, my love- ah. My first and foremost priority is you two-”

“But you’re hurt.” you’re crying out, gasping when Mahito’s eyes lock with yours. And he leers, knobbly fingers fussing to reset that weapon once more. 

“I know.” Stray tresses of golden flaxen stick to Nanami’s sweat-glimmered forehead like an impromptu crown, and you don’t know how he has it in himself to smile down at you. Cradling Yuji in one arm, and you in the other as if the two of you were easily weightless - you can only gape at the adorable dimple digging into the left corner of his mouth. “Now, hold on tight.”

You do - and you can only blink before your savior is flying. 

Now, you’d always marvelled at the sheer heights that Superman reached on those live newscasts. Wondering just how euphoric it must be to soar through the air, free from every care in the world - well, as much as you could be when the fate of the world rests on your shoulders, at least.

But this? This was heaven.

Wind whipping your face like an icy mask, Yuji’s high peels of laughter tinkling in your ears. You can’t do anything but watch and watch as the demolished flower shop grows smaller. A speck. 

“Oh- oh my god.” You’re whispering thorough scrunched eyes, nails clawing deeply into the mountainous curve of his well-defined deltoid.

And if it hurt, then Nanami didn’t give a single sign. Instead, he’s laughing - quiet, and as delicate at the cottony clouds passing you by. “S’alright, s’alright. Super- Ken’s here. N’ m’not gonna drop you.” You’re cutting through the air so fast - staggeringly - but right now, when Nanami’s boring his eyes into yours, it felt like time itself had stumbled to a stop. He’s pulling you even closer to his powerful body, “I’d never let ya go, darling.”

Yet, when the view of your cozy Metropolis apartment comes into view - you almost whine at the fact that he has to. 

“Don’t you worry about a thing now.” Nanami’s ruffling Yuji’s windblown mop of pink hair - even more tousled with the wind. “I’ll be going, and I’ll keep both you and your grandpa safe.”

And looking at him right now - velvety crimson cape flowing at the wind seeping in through your open window, one arm bulging with muscles as he leans readily against the frame - you wonder how you could’ve ever thought that anyone other than him could be Superman.

“Come back safe.” You’re choking out, hands clasped. “W-we’re still not done with our article…”

“Mhm, you better hold me to that, ma’am.” 

And with that, Superman - Nanami - was zipping through the air at a mach speed that made you realize he was intentionally slowing it down for both you and Yuji on your way here. 

Fingers quivering, it takes you what feels like practically forever to turn your television on - precisely onto a live newstream of how Superman had entered the site of a villain attack. Ready to save. To be a hero. 

Eyes locked mindlessly on the tiny blimp of red and blue onscreen, you cuddle a fidgety Yuji on the bouncy cushions of your sofa. For your jittery nerves just as much as his. “Your husband is so cool, lady- he’s Superman! Oh- whoops, shhhh! Tha’s a secret though…”

“Yeah…” you’re breathing out. “Yeah, he is cool, isn’t he?”

.

.

.

Forty-five saved, three buildings wrecked, and one injured. 

One injured - him.

Though, Nanami wouldn’t quite count himself with any civilians injured or…worse. He never quite does. 

But, oh, it was so hard not to when the first thing he’s peeling back that hazy layer of fatigue in his eyes is you - you, you, you. In all your glorious self, big, pearlescent tears spilling down your pretty cheeks and splattering in tiny puddles onto his bare chest. 

His bare, bandaged chest. 

And for a second, powers set aside, Nanami thinks he might just have died and reached heaven. How fitting that the angels looked like you. 

Voice hoarse as he’s muttering his first few words, “Are- are you alright?”

“-stupid. Asking about m-me when you’re the one hurt. Didn’t even-” Your sobs garble out into words, and you’re half-heartedly hitting your fist against the unbandaged part of Nanami’s skin. “Don’t you ever do that again- you had me- so worried.”

Ah, he’d won the fight - and he finally felt like it.

Silently, he makes quick work abandoning those delicate bandages of yours - a strange part of him almost hurt to unravel your work like this. To unravel nothing but silken, unblemished skin after hours of healing abilities.

Though, Nanami gives all the credit to your care, anyway.

Warm fingers cup your head to nuzzle your clammy face against the crook of his neck. Practically draped over your bed and onto his body now, and you could feel his burning skin, smell those musky pheromones of his. “Got it got it, I won’t be scaring you like that again.”

“Th-the neighbors were so worried when you just showed up all injured n’ half-fainting at my window, y’know? I had to bribe them to be quiet with a few of the flowers that Yuji’s grandpa left.” You’re muttering, more to fill the strangely thickening silence than anything. 

“Ah, tell- tell Mr. Itadori that I will have his shop reconstructed by the end of this week.” He’s whispering, voice so strained that you had to crane your head to hear him - close. “Was Yuji doing alright?”

“Mhm, never been better, apparently. He just left with his grandpa, and they invited us over for dinner before…” Brows furrowing, words withering away on your tongue at the agonized knit in his brow. There was something…different. “Are- are you really okay, Kento?”

Nanami doesn’t comment about that use of his first name - nor does he embarrassingly babble out how it might just be his new favorite song now. 

He can’t.

Because Nanami was panting - groaning. Pearly whites clenched so hard that you think you could hear them creak. 

There was a strange simmering flush creeping up his body, staining it such a delicious strawberry pink that made your mouth water- or maybe that was just the emanating clouds of vanilla musk saturating your lungs. Clinging onto Nanami’s body like a dripping second skin-

“I…” he’s gulping, half-lidded eyes shifting away from yours like he couldn’t even bear to look at you right now. Didn’t know what he would do. “-my apologies. But what that fucker- ah- excuse my language. What Mahito hit me with seems to not have been a poison, as I had thought. Rather, now that it’s finally spread through my body, I feel it’s something else entirely… ” 

“What is it- does it hurt?”

“It seems to be…” Gesturing wildly with his hands, careful not to jostle you. “-an aphrodisiac…of sorts.”

You’re letting your lips part, “Oh. Wait- ‘of sorts?’”

And ah, there was the timid Kento you knew. He could never lie to you. “It- itseemstoonlyaffectthoseinlove- B-but my healing abilities are working and-” Nanami’s sitting up faster than you could blink. Words running a mile-a-minute, “-and I shall leave in case you feel uncomfortable with me here-”

“Why would you leave?” It’s slipping between your lips before you can register. Still mulling over those previous words - they explained. A lot. 

Nanami stills, hands clasped around those creamy blankets he was flinging off, sure to disappear into the starry night. “P-pardon?”

Well, fuck. 

You’re steeling your gaze - you’ve waited this long. And if there was anything about Nanami’s afflicted aphrodisiac, it was that it was contagious.

Making you breathe in a heavy gulp of candied air, “Aphrodisiac, huh? I’ve read about those, and don’t you think that since you saved me-” Slowly - ever-so-slowly dragging your hands to rest on his smooth shoulders, faces inches away. “-it’s only fair that I help? Besides…I can smell it too.”

Oh, he gasps. A confession if any.

Fingers tangling through those damp locks. “But if- if you get tangled up with me- who knows what other villains will come after you. I might’ve taken down Mahito today, but Kenjaku is still out there. And I have to keep ya safe.”

“Well who’s going to keep you safe?” You scoff, refusing - rejecting - to relent.

“I don’t need to be safe if it means that I can keep that beautiful smile on your face everyday.” And maybe it was the aphrodisiac, maybe it was how close you were to him in this dimly heady lightning, but Nanami didn’t seem like he meant to say that out loud. Not at all. 

Basking in your spellbound silence. “My love…feel this?” He’s clasping one hand around your own, letting you rover a greedy grope of his plush pecs - his heartbeat. Thundering. Frighteningly so. “Th-this isn’t any old aphrodisiac, especially considering me.”

“And?”

“And that means, darling-” But he was, too, just as much. “That m’gonna want ya…need ya. So badly and fuck! M’gonna make ya forget what it feels like without me…” One rounded index trailing up, up, up to about halfway up your tummy. “-here.”

You’re shuddering, taking in deep gulps of that electric air. “...A-and?”

He’s jerking you forwards with a mere fraction of that superhuman strength to splay your body over his towering one. Face lolling into the cushiony valley of his pecs, legs straddling that slutty waist of his in a way that made you shy. Right on top of his drenched boxers. That needy spot between your legs heating up just as much as his condensing breath did on your skin. “I can’t promise that when I fuck you, I won’t break you.”

Fuck. Was this really the same, adorably feeble Nanami Kento from work? You weren’t sure, but you knew one way to find out…

“I’ll…hold you to that.”

But before he was Superman, he was Nanami Kento from the journalism department. And who was Nanami Kento against you?

“Such a stubborn girl.” You’re being surprised with a sudden implanting of his thick set of fingers leaving a sudden swat on your ass, voice teetering on what almost sounded like a growl. “But you’re mine, aren’tcha?”

Your fingers dapple along the sweat-dampened little curls of blond at the sexy edge of his undercut. And it seemed like the more the aphrodisiac boiled into his veins, the more and more he burned feverishly. 

Senses superhuman but already heightening with the coarse need glossing his brain - he could practically taste your arousal. 

Panting. Charming maw falling parted to mist you own with such rousing puffs of his scent, “Kiss me. Please- kiss me.”

And- fuck, Nanami kisses like he couldn’t get enough of you.

Was absolutely drunk with just a simple slide of his pursed mouth against your own, from a tender little peck until he only got greedier and greedier-

“Mmmm-” Rasping grunts curdle at the back of his throat, slurring into a low whine when he’s wrenching a splayed-out hand onto your scalp and dragging you away. Manhandling. Sultry sucks being left on the tenderest spots of your throat, sure to make the office talk tomorrow. “Can feel how fuckin’ wet ya are f’me already, darlin’. S’this the aphrodisiac or you?”

God, it was so embarrassing. 

That silky little puddle of your reflective slick was flooding from between your flimsy panties to press gluey little smooches against his manspread front. 

You’re mumbling, words stumbling over one another when your hips peek in to seat just above that swollen crown of his cock. Already rock-hard. “Y-you don’t have to say it out loud.”

You barely even realize how you’re slipping and sliding in needy little gyrations of your hips before Nanami’s putting a shuddering halt to it. One rude hand curling around that perfect curvature of your waist, he’s snickering at how you’re letting off a thoroughly disappointed whine. “My apologies, but s’hard f’me to act like a hah- gentleman when ya have such gorgeous lips…” He’s chuckling out - humorless, parking one big thumb against the corner of your mouth. “These ones, too.” 

He couldn’t even finish his sentence - couldn’t even finish his thought.

Not before bruising your lips with some of the filthiest little sucks on your lower lip - like he’d simply gone way too long without kissing you. Once. Twice. Again and again and-

“O-oh!”  Your hands scramble to find purchase up on his broad shoulders when he’s darting down one fat thumb to paint with all your silvery pussy slick. Drawing slow meshes of circles on your soppy slit up and down up and down up and- “N-Nanami-”

“Kento.” He’s cutting you off with a fracturing furrow of his brows, “We’re way past last names, don’tcha think, my love?”

Oh, that sweetly rugged tone stirred up something inside you that made you want Nanami now now now.

“Oh? S’that so?” Ravenous edges of his fingers pulling aside your sticky panties to the side to sidle in with one thick drag of his digits, they’re being lacquered with such a heavy layer of your sweet, sweet juices that Nanami can’t help but drag his fingerpads upwards to sniff. To suck one by one. Sweet. “You’re heh- babblin’ cute nonsense, but fuuuuck this cute cunt is talkin’ ta me even filthier.”

In such sappy awe at the way your puffy pussy flaps were sugarcoating him all the way down till Nanami was dripping at the wrist. Metallic wristwatch from work all shiny and ruined-

“Need you t-to touch me inside, Ken–” you’re huffing, circling lazy grinds across his roughened hands. “Please?”

“Anythin’ for my girl.”

And Nanami’s giving your ass another good thwack! of his palm, feeling the vibrato of delicious jiggles before hauling your entire body higher and higher. Letting his back hit the silken sheets of your bed within a fluid motion, before you even know it you’re hovering your clothed cunt over his swelteringly fevered mouth. 

Just one sudden move and you’d be riding his face - exactly what Nanami wanted right now. Yearned. 

“Oh- wait-” You’re startling, fingers fumbling with that tight pencil skirt you’d worn to work specifically for him to see. “Didn’t take this-”

“Not a problem.” He’s grunting, only looking up with droopy eyes at where you’re straddling his handsome face, decorated with tawny strands of hair when he’s grinning. Thick fingers clasping onto the hem at your waist, “Hold on tight n’ show me that pretty pussy.”

RIIIIIP–!

Your skirt is on the floor, torn through like butter - your blouse and bra soon to follow. Impatient. And it’s only once Nanami’s done savoring that sweet embarrassment wafting off of you, the way your drenched pussymound smells so sugary sweet - does he even consider freeing you of them.

He’s scrunching up the sodden wet fabric into a little treasure hidden underneath your pillow - something for him later…

And you’re even wetter than usual, that contagious spell of aphrodisiac making your eyes glaze with sheer need. 

“Aw, look at thaaaat.” Nanami’s breathing - enchanting. The curves of his lips lifting into a smirk at the way your dripping slit treacles a fresh coating of slick all down his tongue, letting it sliiiide a lazy trailway to hit the back of his scratchy tastebuds. “Atta girl, b-better be taking all of me if yer that eager, hm?”

And Nanami is so needy - he’s so desperate to have your clingy pussy make a mess all over his face as soon as possible. 

Breathing in like some pervert to take in your perfumed scent. Reaching up to smear a wet glissade of his lips down your own, and you think that it might just be the filthiest French snog that anyone has ever placed on you. The buttoned edge of his nose mushes against your peeked clit so harshly. 

He’s blazing, cock thumping for more- With a low, heated whistle, he’s nuzzling his sweat-glossed forehead up against your moistened inner thigh. Layers upon layers of your slick coveting his features and stinging delicate little ropes that connect his maw to your cunt.

“Mmm- fuckin’ sweet- fuckin’ hot–” Nanami keens out, pillowy palms spreading your legs so comfortably apart until you felt like he was cracking you open. “C’mon now, sit your f-full weight on me, my love.”

You’re sputtering, thighs all achy with fatigue. “B-but-”

“Darling…” Nanami’s smiling, eyes crinkling adorably at the corners. “Not to be conceited - forgive my tone - but I’m Superman. N’ if there was any way m’to die, then it would be right between these pretty legs of yours.”

And you didn’t know whether it was the fumes of vanilla aphrodisiac taking over his melty brain completely because Nanami was ruthless. 

Your dear, sweet coworker was kissing the very edges of your bloated cunt with one of his oversized fingers. Sifting through to draw numerous innocent hearts on your sensitive clit, before plunging down,down, down-

“Ah!” You’re yelping at the stinging stretch of his souring fingerpads, swirling in mushy little gyrations around and around your elastic entrance. Extra sensitive right now- damn that flower. “H-how is your finger already feeling so…”

“Good? Does my heh- good girl like this?” He’s cooing up at you, feeling your gloopy cunt with such copious inches of his long hands. 

And with such staggering fingers you could only imagine how big he’d be down there…

SWAT!

“Aww, don’t space out already. Wanna hear those p-pretty moans even longer-” The jutting pout of Nanami’s oh-so-cute lower lip smudges against your saturated clit. Tingling and hot when he tilts his head to bite. “‘Sides, how are ya gonna f-fit my cock if this is too big, hm?”

You’re holding back a wrecked whimper when he’s chancing another rummaging finger to part your pursed pussy lips. Ramming up and down to drag a sultry stripe across every nook and gummy ridge, to feel for- 

“F-fuck-” Head throwing back, your spine arches into a tight little bow that slops the entirety of your cunt down onto Nanami’s eagerly awaiting mouth. “There- there there there- don’ stop, Kentooo.”

He’s been waiting for this forever. And he was going to get his fill. 

And you could feel the way his mouth curled into a flirty smile, the back of his sharp chin slathered against the very back of where you needed him the most. 

“Mhm– Not gonna let ya go-” As if to prove his point, one free hand is all it takes for him to latch onto your waist and pin you to ride his face with reckless abandon. Exactly how he wanted it. “Wanna marry ya- be mine- please-” Because Nanami Kento didn’t want to move an inch - couldn’t bear parting with the exact sweet treat that’s haunted his most lecherous dreams since the day he fucking met you. “-never- ah- never after th-this.”

Such pretty, pretty melodies resonate out every time Nanami’s slobbering honeyed flurries of sucks and kisses onto your cunt - and not just from between your lips.

No, your teary pussymound was so loud with wiry sploshes of sap. And he simply can’t help himself from nodding his head with every waterlogged swash - as if he was having a full fucking conversation.

“S’right- m’wife’s always so right aren’tcha-” Nanami’s rawly drenched fingers pump outside - just for a split-second - to pap! pap! pap! his calloused pads on that syrupy little stud of your clit before curling his fingers into his mouth and sucking. Cleaning himself off. “Sh-should hear what yer gorgeous pussy’s been hah- sayin’- such a talkative girl, isn’t she?”

And those drunken chestnut eyes of his were just pleading - begging - for you to babble out, “Wh-what is she saying, Ken?”

“She’s sayin’- boasting, actually…” he’s drawling off, and with just how utterly fucked that Nanami looked right now, you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d lost his train of thought. Giggling - giggling out, “-that she can take three.”

He was determined to prove it to you.

To swell your adhesive walls open with three of his pulpy fingers until you felt like you were going to burst. Those thickset globular ends of his digits reaching for that precious little bullseye of your cunt - he’s caressing you lovingly from the inside.

Over and over back and forth in maddening crawls until you were halfway through sobbing. And a primal itch inside him purrs at the sight of those prettily glistening tears in your eyes.

Ah, you looked so gorgeous riding his face like this - and, really, it wasn’t Nanami’s fault that his mouth felt a little left out…was it?

“B-both?” You’re dawdling your limp arms precariously onto the mahogany headboard - something that lasts for a generous two seconds before he’s unlatching your hands to dig harshly into his prespired tug. Firm arm around your first nudging you to pull- “You’re seriously gonna t-try n’ fit both?”

Both being the way that Nanami’s overfilling your snug channel with the dual penetration of his long, extra-sensitive tongue. 

Hissing with a slightly feral snarl marring those features when your tight hole won’t give way, Nanami’s bumping his nose against your sensitive nub with shy pecks once. Twice. Thrice to bully his feverish muscle inside.

“H-hngh—” he’s groaning at the tugging squeeze of your rubbery cunt. Stray fingers scissoring open your gluey walls, “Need ya to m-milk my tongue- know you can- ah! Gonna take it like my good girl, aren’tcha?” 

And it happens all at once.

You don’t know what you’re more surprised at - the way that he’s somehow managing to wedge in that sugarcoated drive of his tongue, or the way that you’re cumming.

Your own high taking you by surprise - taking all but Nanami by surprise. 

And you’ve never felt anything like this before, eyes flashing with white-hot stars. 

They’re burning into your brain and rendering you absolutely stupid with every bludgeon of his fingers into your gooey depths. So fast and hard that you can feel the recoil from your bulging g-spot sprinting in cratering vibrations down your spine.

“Nana- Ken-ohhh fuck!” Your mouth drivels away mindlessly, the euphoria so good that you can feel pools of dribble spilling from the corners of your lips with every grind. Thighs quaking, somehow wanting more- shit, seems the aphrodisiac won’t be done after just one…“M’cumming- ngh- m’cumming m’c-cumming.”

“Mhmmm- already know.” Words sinking down into what almost sounds like whines, and Nanami almost feels like he could cum in his pants. “Come now- pull on m’hair n’ r-ride me through that pretty high.” Filthy. Depraved. He’s curling the deliciously gravely tastebuds on his tongue to lap up every one of your knotted waves of slick, letting viscous wad after wad hit the back of his throat with a lewd splat!. “H-hehhh. Chatty pussy- y’know what else she’s sayin’?”

Shit- the idea makes your fingers nimbly pull at Nanami’s soft strands until he’s wafting out a low atta giiirl. Mumbling through croaking moans that just won’t stop dropping from your lips, “Wh-ngh! what?”

“She’s hngh- saying…” Yeah, it wasn’t the aphrodisiac - it definitely wasn’t the aphrodisiac that had him losing his fucking mind like this. It was you. “-that yer gonna g-give me another biiiig one very soon.”

Oh.

That wasn’t a promise - Nanami didn’t have to promise that. 

Because he was so intoxicated by that caramel scent sticking to you. Increasing twofold when with a sodden swat! down your bawling slit, you’re being stretched out with three of his digits until you were wide agape. Embarrassingly, so.

But not for Nanami - with a tantalized loll of his head into the silk-covered pillows, he’s gifting your sloppy entrance with a thick wad of saliva. 

As if the need was infectious - that orbed mass of spit flooding the inside of your cozy pussy just before his tongue is. 

“Ngh- s-so hot- ya like that new lipstain, my love?” He’s gulping down the excess slushes of your slick with every thrust past your glutinous walls, hard. Sloppy. Making such a mess on purpose, because for all how straightlaced Nanami was - all that shattered when it came to you. “-s-so sweet. Ah- h-hold my hand if s’too much, darling.”

“Feels so s-sensitive but…” Your jaw drops into a soft oh! when his rugged tongue drags over the globed bruises of his fingertips inside. Fingers scrambling for his free ones in midair, “-but I want more, Kentooo-”

With the leverage on your hand, he’s helping your burning thighs manage out a few more soppy strokes up and down. 

Your head is so dizzy by now, and you can barely see straight. Barely stumble to match every sopping smooch being punished upon your overwhelmed pussy. “Look so pretty like this- So tight- so cute. Probably c-couldn’t even ngh- fit my tip this way.”

“S-so mean.”

“I’d be nice if ya- hngh- spit in my mouth.”

Gasping, “Like this?”  But you didn’t even have to ask - you knew the answer in Nanami’s eyes, in the way he was smearing your pussy lips thoroughly ajar. In the way his dilated pupils run all the way to the back of his lips when you do. 

Your greedy gaze dazes back down to take in that heavenly sight of him - and you almost wish that you still had your camera for the article today with you. Because this was a sight you wanted to remember forever and ever. 

He’s so pretty with his golden locks splayed out like an angelic halo on the pillowcase below, clammy skin flushed rose red, swollen lips coral pink and gumming over your gluey ones like it was his favorite candy. Sucking. Even harder at the sloshes of translucent sap that laminated his face down to his chin, his neck, and all the way up to his cheekbones. 

Thighs stuttering and sticking with every grind on top of his face, it’s all you can do to manage out a pitchy, “Think I might just- K-Ken–”

He’s swirling up a lazy few fingertips to your needy clit and pinching. “-cum all over m’face again, my girl.”

You do. You do like you can’t stop.

And he’s supping up every draining burble of your flooding slick like it was an antidote to this little ah…indisposition. 

He says so, too - gurgling out wet little scientific explanations into your cunt that make your high peak with orgasms upon orgasms. Your second, third, and forth meshing into one to make you practically convulse. Nanami’s forced to dig his fingers into the plush of your thighs to stop you from escaping. 

And the question about whether this was part of his powers is halfway out of your mouth before Nanami’s leaving off a final swat! again your drooling pussy.

Chuckling - crazed - at the wispy sprays of juices that makes you gush out. 

“C’mon now, do those legs s-still work?” Nanami can’t hide the way that his deep voice wobbles into what almost sounds like a laugh. High. 

You’re being ragdolled with a squelching pop! off of his heated mouth and easily lifted to take his third favorite seat of yours - his lap. The second being his mouth, and the first- well, it was sure to be his thoroughly achy, angry cock right about now. 

“Ken-”

Nanami couldn’t bear to hear his name in your sweet, whimpering tone - he just couldn’t. Shutting you up with a slow slide of a kiss, “Yeahhh, darlin’...kiss me- more. Lick it allll up.”

“D-didn’t think you’d be so dirty…” you’re gasping, when his tongue pries your slagging maw open to once more spit. Sweet. Caramelized. 

“Oh, my pretty girl…” Two of his soppingly wet fingers smush your cheeks into a pathetic pout, “You haven’t seen dirty just yet. Now- spit back in m-my mouth, why don’tcha?”

You do - splattering a messy mark right at that adorable dimple of his with your messy aim. But he loves it - it was so sweet. Darting out a tongue to extract back all those sugary remnants before giving you one, final French kiss. 

Begging in that growling way of his, “Whaddya- whaddya want from me- I’ll give ya anything- anything-” Both arms looping your waist to plaster your sweaty front into his Herculean one, you have to hold back a keen at how your hardened nipples massage against his pecs. 

But, most of all, what you could feel - what you so badly wanted to feel - was that long, thick outline that jerked once you glide away sweaty strands of Nanami’s hair. Desperate. 

“Wan’ your cock, Kento.” You were way past feeling any sort of embarrassment now. Winding your arms around his sculpted shoulders, “N-need you ngh- inside me. Now.”

Of course, whatever you wanted - Nanami Kento would give.

He’s tugging down on the elastic waistband of those too-tight boxers, and your ears burn with the saturated schwf! of soaked fabric on skin. And that superhero suit…did not do him justice. 

Nanami’s slouching back on one arm when you’re oh-so-impatiently helping him kick off that useless piece of fabric. Head tilting with an uncharacteristically cocky smirk, “Like what you ah- see, hm?”

Shit, did you ever. 

Because it’s always the quiet ones - always. 

And with your seat position right at the thick, globular mushroom tip of Nanami’s cock, you knew that he’d be packing a staggering few inches. The mere outline of it puckering up against your pussyflaps enough to get you to gulp with nervousness.

But this? This had your jaw dropping. 

Fingers trailing down that lightly fleeced copper happy trail of his in utter disbelief. Because not only was Nanami Kento big - he was big. 

Swollen, glistening near-nine inches that jerked at the vulgar size difference of your digits struggling to wrap around his ridiculous girth. Nestled against bulky breeder balls rounded and weighing heavily underneath his strawberry pink length. He seemed even harder than usual - and it was all for you.

Fuck, that aphrodisiac. This was all for his gorgeous (future) wife.

Lazily drooling out a thick few wads of pearly pre that butters over your fingerpads, and just a simple touch - just one drag of his sweltering hot length makes Nanami whimper-

“O-oh- yeahhh- brace yerself, my girl.” He’s letting his head tumble back with a groan, heavy-handed arms guiding to the fleshy mound of your waist. “Gonna be ah- ruinin’ this pretty cunt-”

Nanami’s making you mewl with a welcoming little thwack! of his plumply bloated cockhead against your puffed-up pussy lips. Making your creaky bedframe sing out a few protests. Stirring out a staccato of one - two - three before finally - finally - slipping right between that pursed pout. 

CRASH!

An overwhelmed hand of his grips your headboard the moment he’s pushing and pushing - only to have the strong mahogany break underneath his superstrength. Damn, these powers.

“Awww, look how much yer drooling-” Nanami’s hiccuping with every tiny clench of your gummy walls around that cylindrical intrusion. A mean few fingertips so ferally smearing over the rings upon rings of saturated sap your cunt was slobbering all over his hefty base. Drawing a foggy line with them over your tummy, “G-gonna be riiiight here…h-heh.”

And maybe it was best that your dear Nanami was talking to, well, her. Because just the simple stretch that came with his fattened tip was enough to render you spellbound. 

“Nana-”

Smack! “Mhm? M’here, m’here, your dear hngh! Kento is here.”

“Kento- oh my goood-” Nonsensical syllables drooling from your lips and readily available for Nanami to kiss away. Your head slags drunkenly into the crook of his neck with each sinking inch, “S-s’so big, dunno if it’ll even ah- fit.”

“Shhh, s’gonna fit. Deep breaths…deep breaths.” 

You’re echoing, trying to time your stumbling gasps to match his. Backfiring when you only obtain lungfuls of his masculine scent, ‘D-deep breaths?“

“Mhmm- deep-” Oh, but even he wasn’t immune to the cloggy clamp of your pussy that had Nanami rutting. “Whoops.” One of his powerful forearms showcase in front of your narrowed vision, ogling all the pumped veins and rippling muscles. “C’mon- bite.”

You’re listening without a second thought, teeth sinking into the smooth skin - gurgling back tiny sobs at the sheer stretch. It felt like you were being split apart. 

He’s rolling his tips upwards, glissading you in a cozy massage against the ridges of his sweat-shielded abs. “M’gonna make it- duh. Look at me-” Dextrous fingers curling around your throat to make your woozy gaze focus on him, “Yeah- yeah. Look riiiight at me wh-when I ah- ”

And it takes only the tiniest probe of his thumpingly peaked veins bludgeoning against your tender walls, fuming divot bawling out a few geysers of creamy precum that fill you up scorchingly.

It takes only that for you to cum with an unstable shudder, moans piling on top of moans. You’re digging your fingerpads into Nanami’s damp scalp and pulling when you cum for the nth time on his cock.

You didn’t even know how you were cumming again - why, but you had a feeling that the thickening perfume of vanilla and candy in the room had something to do with it…

“C-cummin’ from jus’ the ah- tip? Seriously?” Nanami’s breathing, chest heaving with awe. Pushing and pushing away the heavy strands of his blond hair just to see you. And the urgent motions only make your pussy slide down even more, spearheading his lusciously right-leaning curve up into your gooey placeholders. “Really are jus- ah- made f’me- really ah! So perfect. So, so perfect.”

You’re watching his huffs turn heated, “Mmm- wanted you to f-fuck me like this ever since I was- ngh at the office.”

“Ohhh what a coincidence.” He grins - grins. “I’ve wan’ed to fuck ya like ah- this, since I first s-saw ya. Woulda fucked ya right then n’ there in your pretty lil’ cubicle if I ah- could.”

Crying out, “More- more more more-”

“Jus’ another inch-” Nose crinkling at the gripping resistance of your tight entrance, you were so slicked-up that you were practically flooding him with delirious puddles of resin. His fat thumb smears open your lips, “S-see? Juuuus a lil’ more-”

Oh…fuck.

He was finally- wait. No, this had to be a dream, right?

“Wait- shiiit- did you seriously-” He’s stuttering - stuttering exactly the way he used to back in the office. Back in his disguise. “Seriously…think ya deserve a little r-reward for that, right?”

Your reward just-so-happened to be another treacly wad of saliva being blasted onto your tongue. And by now you’re doing nothing but letting it easily be swallowed up with a cockdrunk smile. “God, m’feelin’ so hngh! full— c-can feel ya right- here-” 

Every jackhammer bullied up into your goopy orifice had Nanami wrecking you from the inside. His crowned, rotund tip prying open those stickily sweet walls of yours, barely even having to try to stir up a wet wipe against your poor cervix. 

“Feel me right-” One softened palm splays down across your tummy. Hard. Feeling for that tenderizing whack of his thickly tip into your most precious spots. “-here, huh? Yeahhh- f-feel that bump- touch it. Gonna c-carve out a fuckin’ ngh- cute lil’ bruise right here.” 

“P-please.”

And then, with a heady drawl of laughter, Nanami’s dredging out his tired tongue to lick over your rapid pulse like he wanted to bite. Palms still groping that orbed bulge, “Y-you wouldn’t believe what this- ngh- this is makin’ me think…”

Ever-so-curious, even when you’re being fucked stupid like this. “Wh-what?”

Earning you another few vicious ruts into your g-spot, a few thin lines of drool waterfall past his lips. Almost as if the very thought is enough to make him light-headed. 

“Jus’ thought a-about how yer always so ngh- pretty.” Muttering low and frantic with every bounce on his painfully hard cock, like he didn’t even want to admit this pussydrunk nonsense. But couldn’t stop. “So pretty when you were handlin’ Yuji today. Pretty when yer all ah- overstuffed with my cock b-but…you’d make an even prettier mama, though.”

Oh. 

A mama - Nanami Kento wanted to make you mama. 

And he was pressurizing you with pound after pound drilling into your melty depths until you were sure that you were molded around his shape. That mountainous curve of his crownhead striking every bullseyed sweet spot.

“Wan’ it-” Your legs wrangle around his slender waist, heels digging into the pretty dimples at the bottom of his spine. “Want you to f-fill me up so ngh- badly, Kento.”

“S-seriously?” Your words so distracting that it has his riotous cock drilling hard into that spot and skidding away in increasingly sappy thrashes against your battered and bruised cervix. Jaw clenching, “Really wan’ me fuckin’ this cute cunt hngh- p-pregnant, darling?”

Making you only nod and nod and nod-

“Yeahhh- anythin’ my girl ah- wants, huh?” He’s tittering at how adorably your hips were slurring out the tiniest of grinds. Up and down up and down - failing to meet his sloppy cadence, but angling your hips to use him. “N’ right now- all I wan’ is you all ah- round and fuuuuull.”

And it wasn’t just the aphrodisiac talking. 

You were beginning to overspill already, the flooded torrentials of his slushy precum seeping from the pouty ends of your slippery slit. You’re moping down his length with such humid tufts of juices, “Cum in me- please- need you to- now.”

“Mama didn’t teach ya ah- patience, my girl?” 

And despite his words, he’s falling back to lounge so sexily against the dampened sheets. Close - he could feel it in the snaking heat at the bottom of his stomach that he was so very close. 

Losing his faint grip on his power, Nanami’s clenching and balling his fists to stop from soiling permanent marks all over your body. Mind shattering. Your bedsprings bursting. Teeth gritting to stop him losing control-

Voice breaking into a few whimpers when he finally utters, “S-s’alright- greedy girl.” Before palming one hand onto the bloated budge of his length, the other swirling over your tearily overstimulated clit and tweaking. “-I can be th-the heh- strict parent.”

Oh, at this point, your orgasm is more a few heavenly tingles than anything else. 

Stimulating your most fragile of pummeled crevices, you’re feeling warm, thick goblets of Nanami’s cum swash in a sticky wave. And there’s so much of it - extra with his condition right now, spurting out ribbony ropes of sickly sweet cum with every squeeze of his bulky balls.

Those knotted wads of ivory are filling you up until your gummy walls were inflating, thunking out a little wet spot at your cervix. Something that he can’t help but keen over a few fat digits and push to make a splashing mess. “Gonna get ya pregnant- I will g-get ya pregnant.”

Nanami’s big, beefy arms are pinning you to the front of his chest like he never wanted to let go. Never would. 

Heaving to chase his breath - and, yet, still failing with every battering ram of his snaking cock. Fucking up the thickly viscous streams of cum up deeper and deeper-

“O-oh.” Nanami’s muttering, glassy wooden eyes straying somewhere beyond you and towards the end of the bed. The strangely…sagging bed. “We broke the- hah- we broke the bed.”

Shit. But you barely have the time to register his words before- THUD!

Your back is being brazenly splayed-out across the mahogany floors of your bedroom, Nanami’s arms underneath you shielding your body from every ounce of the stinging smack. Strong. Holding onto you tight. 

Still pumped inside, still carving out the free ounces with masses upon masses of his swollen cock. 

With your head drooping barely-lucidly to the side, you’re gasping at the blackened palm print that had burned itself onto the floor right beside your head.

The air around the two of you was candied, pheromones of candy and vanilla melding into what was probably your favorite scent now. Ahhhh…he didn’t even care if this was the cure anymore.

And despite being the strongest being in perhaps the entire universe, Nanami was melting into you. His abs adhesively plastered against your front, hips rolling in what can’t even be called grinds. Just simple, sappy gyrations of his still-twitchy cock. 

He’s whispering out a slurring mantra of words into your thoroughly wrenched open mouth - barely even able to talk coherently after that mind-shattering orgasm. “Lock- lock them- lock them please-”

“I-I caaaan’t.” You’re whimpering out, limp legs uselessly dangling like dead weight where Nanami was resting them on the cushiony home of his deltoids. 

But not to worry. Of course not to worry, your Nanami was here for you. 

Biceps bulging when one arm bends to pin your ankles behind his neck, he’s folding you down, down, down into such a filthy mating press. 

Moving you around as if it was nothing, as if you couldn’t hear your joint weakly popping. His healing powers being kicked involuntarily into overdrive…fuck.

Nanami can feel his cock jerk - barely softened for a few nanoseconds before thumping with every ounce of blood in his fully spent brain.

“Awww, t-too weak?” Planting a sodden peck against the corner of your ankles. And something in that tone told you that the two of you were far, far from over. That the slowly drunken fucking of Nanami’s hips was just the beginning. He’s squashing back a few remnant dredges of seed from just earlier, slipping out just enough to smear a messy white lipstick. “Well then…”

You’re jolting at the quick pap! pap! pap! of his ballooned tip popping out a few sloppily smushing strikes - before sinking deeply back in.

He’s fucking you again- and again and again and-

“Y-you know I h-haaaah- hate disrespectin’ my girl like- this-” He’s staring deeply into your eyes, gesturing languidly at the expanse of the floor. Ever-the-gentleman…usually. “-but if s’f-fer makin’ our daughter…then. Gotta make sure that I can be her Superdad.”

A/N. Hope you lovelies have the best week n’ happy new year in advance <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[hballegro]

mk so plan for today.

part one;

expand on this part of my outline. not TOO hard because i write banter best when its just me imagining talking to my friends and it flows better if its stream of consciousness but i need to have some beats to hit

esp since its MOST THE CHAPTER

and its THREE PEOPLE. bj, hawk, and trap. and i have chronic 'cant write more than 2 people talking to each other' disease

and for two;

FINISH HENRY. IM NOT ALLOWED TO START CHAPTER 6 UNTIL I FINISH HIM. HE DESERVES IT. TO HELL WITH A BAD ART DAY. ITS RAINY OUTSIDE AND THE MAN HAS EARNED HIS SPACE ON THE CANVAS. NO ACTUAL WRITING UNTIL HENRY IS FINISHED NO MATTER HOW BAD I WANT IT.

[paetalks]

nanami kento, very serious looking guy working in the finance department, having a little crush for the new girl who just got hired by the creative team.

you didn’t even know him, not until the christmas dinner party at the office. you were fairly new, only been working there for four months. working for a big company had not always been your goal, but when you got offered the position freshly out of college you couldn’t say no. it was well paid, in the city center, and allowed you to put your degree to use - which was a big plus, since finding a good job lately seemed to be stressful for people with an art degree (or so you were told by basically everybody).

when you first saw him, your heart skipped a bit. he looked insanely good, with his white shirt hugging a toned chest and short blonde hair falling slightly on his forehead. he was talking with your creative project manager, big hands gesturing softly while speaking and a light smile on his face. it was the first time you ever laid eyes on this beautiful man, and as soon as you realized you were staring a bit too hard, he had already made eye contact. eyebrows slightly furrowed, his eyes met yours. before you even knew, you were walking up to him.

“hi” you said, breathily. you felt your hands sweat and damned yourself mentally for behaving like a girl seeing a cute boy for the first time. up close, you realized he must have been a little older. not too much but the confidence he exuded was clearly not the one of someone in his early twenties - nothing like a guy your age. your manager looked around, confused on why you were intruding in their conversation, and eventually asked “hi, y/n. did you need something?”

you blushed immediately, looking away from the beautiful man, realizing there was no good reason to justify your sudden intrusion. you just saw a good looking man and walked up to him as if nothing else was going on. “oh…” your mouth slightly open, your mind racing to find something appropriate to say.

“i think we have not been introduced yet.” his voice was deep and you felt it in your stomach, like music at a concert. your eyes darted up to the unknown man, nodding shyly. “right. my name is nanami kento, pleased to meet you.”

you felt your insides melt while shaking his big hand, mumbling your name and smiling softly. five seconds later, you pretended like someone was calling your name from somewhere where your other colleagues were and excused yourself, quickly leaving just like you did arriving.

watching you walk away, nanami let out a soft smile, hoping the man in front of him was not going to pay much mind to it. “oh, don’t worry about y/n. she’s young, and new. she’s still trying to find her way around here, you know?” your project manager laughed awkwardly, still wondering what was all that about. kento shrugged, watching you from afar. your cheeks were red and the grip on the glass you had in your hands looked incredibly stiff.

what neither you or your protect manager knew was that nanami kento did know who you were. he had noticed you, maybe on your first or second day, when you got lost and popped up in the finance department. your colorful sweater and laptop full of stickers looked very out of place and when one of his colleagues approached you, letting you know that maybe you had walked in the wrong office, you did turn another color from embarrassment and started profoundly apologize. he thought you were cute, and funny, but the more he got a glimpse of you in the hallways, the more he noticed you wherever he were.

the break room, the coffee shop in front of the office building, the elevator. he found you in every room, even if you didn’t even know he was there. it was like he couldn’t get enough of you, like looking at you from afar was something he had grown addicted to in such a short time.

he wouldn’t have called it a crush, but whenever he needed to print something he would carefully choose the printer on the same floor your office was on - hoping that, when walking by, your door would be open and that he could catch a glimpse of you. okay, maybe thinking back, there had been a few moments in which he felt very infatuated by the idea of you…

looking at you from across the room, while zoning out on the conversation he was in, and noticing how sometimes you would look back too, he told himself that yes, that was definitely a crush.

idk i love the dynamics of stoic boyfriend x artsy girlfriend. wtv??? i’m done .